Notorious
by Eren-get-in-my-jaeger
Summary: In biological warfare such as this, there are only two outcomes: Forfeiture or Insanity. OptimusXOC
1. Fiasco

**This idea came to me in the middle of the night, after reading the fourth book in the "Gone" series, written by Michael Grant. (If you haven't read them, do it.) The idea of a plague seemed interesting enough for me to at least attempt to write about it. Some scenes may look familiar, others may not.  
><strong>

**Anywho, this fic is not for the faint of heart. There will be death, cursing, mentions of drug use and some suggestive content. Read at your own risk, and if you do, don't forget to leave a review.**

* * *

><p>Sam Witwicky had seen everything.<p>

He had seen aliens. Not the slimy, bulging green kind that pissed green goo or whatever, not the suave, handsome kind that looked like humans but for some bizarre reason were able to move things with their mind or summon fire from their fingertips.

Those were stories.

Look up in the sky, Sam would tell people. Look up past the stars and the planets and then sun, past Saturn and Jupiter and Pluto, and even though it was impossible to see, know that the planet Cybertron was out there.

Know that it was dead and gone and its residents were here on Earth, in disguise. That part was pure truth.

And sometimes, the truth would scare the crap out of you.

Like today, for instance. He was just a not-so-normal kid visiting a relatively normal town. Synapsis, Florida, the lowest of the low. Not that the place was any different from where he had grown up, but its desolate coffee shops and banks and stores provided somewhat of a change.

Visiting, though, was an understatement. Mikaela had made that clear. Held against their will was more like it, due to the surprising amount of human protest taking place throughout the country, all in favor for the Autobots to leave Earth.

Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen. He could never seen Optimus – or any other Autobot supporter, for that matter – bending to the will of a bunch of imbeciles.

Though Sam had survived countless Decepticon attacks, there was no telling what a crowd of angry humans would do if they found him. Sam was too well-known throughout the country.

So what better place to hide him out than in Synapsis? The place was ancient and barely stood out on a map.

But at least its practically deserted coffee shops could cook up one hell of a latte.

Mikaela Banes sat across from him, jacket wrapped tightly around her body. She was barely drinking, glancing up at the ceiling every once and a while.

He loved Mikaela to death, and though she was gorgeous, smart, and mechanical-savvy, starting up conversations wasn't one of her strongpoints. She would rather be behind a wielder or a motorcycle than chatting.

And that was what Sam loved about her.

But today was different. Today, an eerie silence was creeping between them. Around the shop, a few civilians were sitting alone at their seats and flipping through the newspaper. And in one case, a girl having gone a little more high tech and chosen a laptop instead.

Finally, Sam broke the silence.

"Whatcha' thinking about?"

Mikaela took a sip of her latte, wiping whipped cream off her lips before saying, "Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Work stuff," Mikaela paused, and then said, "Dad, back at the shop. He has this new bike he wants to sell and…well, customers come and go, but no one seems to buy. It's a nice peace of work, one of those old Ducati's…took him almost a year to fix it up."

"You helped him?" Sam asked.

"A little. Did the pain job, but that was all," Mikaela shrugged and sipped her drink, almost as if trying to cut off the conversation. "He misses me."

"You can always go back."

"And leave you?" Mikaela laughed aloud, black hair falling around her shoulders as she leaned forward. She said, "Even if N.E.S.T gave me permission, I wouldn't do it. Not for the world."

Sam smiled, beamed broadly. It was like someone had filled him full of helium and he was ready to fly, to fly and get lost in her beautiful eyes….

Being in love felt great.

"So, do you know what job you want yet?" Mikaela asked. "Obviously you don't want to end up like me, wallowing in grease. It's your call."

Sam waved a hand dismissively. "Something to do with N.E.S.T. I want to work with the Autobots. No doubt about it."

Mikaela studied him, her eyes seeming to take in his features. She nodded, pushed her drink to the side, pulling her jacket tightly around her as a sudden gust of wind blew through the shop from an open door, an elderly couple making their way inside.

"What about you?"

"Autobots," she said immediately. "I sure as hell wouldn't be able to get a job anywhere else."

"What about your dad?" Sam asked.

"Oh, he can make it on his own," Mikaela said. "N.E.S.T would have to pay good for me to send him some cash, but even then…." She rubbed her temple. "I'd send him on a vacation. Somewhere nice. He's always wanted to go to Egypt…"

"I'd pass on that one," Sam mumbled, taking a swig of his own drink. He began to look back at the counter, eyeing the assortment of pastries and other sweets. He licked his lips, but Mikaela beat him to it.

"_No_," she waggled a finger and Sam whipped his head back around. "And what do you mean you'd pass?"

"I've already been to Egypt. Broke my hand there. And then died."

Mikaela was silent after that.

The only noise in the room was the sound of the woman sitting in the corner typing away. The man reading the newspaper had left, taking his coffee with him. Sam looked at Mikaela, who was staring down at her lap, probably trying to form some type of question to ask.

Sam looked down at his empty cup. He said, "I'm done."

"So am I," Mikaela slid her empty cup towards him. "Can you throw them away?"

Sam did as she asked, standing and making his way over to the trash can. The woman was there, the one with the laptop, sliding an empty plate into the trash can. She looked up as Sam approached, and their eyes met.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" She suddenly said.

Sam gulped.

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded apprehensively. "I know you. Sam….Witwitty…Witwinny…"

"Witwicky," Sam mumbled.

"Yeah," The woman nodded, and then reeled back, as if she had been struck. Then, her cheeks reddened and she began to sweat. She held out a hand. "T-Thanks for all you've done….you know, in Egypt and everything."

Sam, stared at her hand.

"I don't bite," she said under her breath.

Sam shook her head, tentative, at first, and then he smiled.

"What are you doing way down here?" she asked. "Don't you live in California?"

Sam shrugged. "Somewhere out there. How about you? You don't look tan enough to be a resident of the sunshine state, so…."

"Seattle," the woman said. "Way up in the corner, but I guess that makes us semi-neighbors."

Sam studied her features, unable to spot any sign of alien. She didn't feel like a Decepticon, didn't make the hairs on the back of his neck rise. She was just a middle-aged computer know-how who respected Sam for what he had done.

Normal, right?

Then why did he feel so….strange?

* * *

><p>It was on the way home that they heard the scream.<p>

It would have been easier, Sam would decide later. Easier to just have called Bumblebee to pick them up. The base was only a mile away, but Mikaela had suggested they walk to burn off all the calories.

Their feet pattered against the sidewalk, Mikaela ahead, her jacket wrapped around her waist. Her sleeves were rolled up due to the fact that it was humid, even at night. But she was used to sweat. Running through battle-torn towns and cities had toughened her even more than a life of solitude, and underprivileged.

"The hell was that?" She said, spinning around.

"What?"

Then, he heard it. A low, ghostly moan this time, coming from a dim alleyway to their right. It wafted through the air, and instinctively Sam listened for the sound of metal against metal, rumbles, or overly-heavy footsteps.

None.

"C'mon," Mikaela dashed away, down the alley. She disappeared from view before Sam could even move.

"Wait, Kaela….are you out of your mind?" Sam hissed. He shook his head and followed.

The alley was dark, trash cans spilled over, rats skittering back and forth. Cockroaches crawled up the brick walls, and he could hear something else, now, something low…

Like a person. The high-pitches whines of a person. He came to a stop beside Mikaela, almost running smack into her, staring into the alley. Old lights from vacant apartment windows flickered on and off, casting an eerie glow on everything around Sam and Mikaela.

But that wasn't what had gotten Mikaela's attention.

"Look," She pointed to a strange colored blob on the alley floor.

Something red was on the ground. Something wet, and Sam knew because when he took a step, it stuck to his shoe.

Tomato sauce?

No. Tomato sauce didn't smell like that.

Mikaela was kneeling suddenly, picking up an object that glittered in the moonlight. It was a knife, a long kitchen knife, with a sharp tip and a wicked blade.

It, too, was coated in a sickly red substance that Sam had seen many times, but didn't want his mind to identify.

"Someone's hurt…" Mikaela breathed. "Oh, shit, Sam, someone –"

A scream. In the dark, a shadow leaped from the toppled barrels of trash and slammed into Mikaela with the strength of a pro linebacker.

Mikaela went down and the knife flew from her hand, clattering across the ground, little specks of blood flying.

Sam shouted, but Mikaela was pinned under a woman, the same woman.

The one from Seattle. The one who had thanked him for saving the world.

"Kill me!" She roared. "Kill me! Kill me kill me kill me!"

"What the fuck is going on?" Mikaela shrieked. Her strength easily outmatched the woman's, and she was able to shove her off, rolling around onto her back and scrambling to her feet, just missing the puddle of blood. She stumbled into Sam, who gabbed her, steadied her.

"Kill me!" The woman raged, and Sam picked up the knife. "If you've saved the world so many damn times you should know when to..."

"Sam!" Mikaela cried out. "Sam, look, I felt something…something's wrong with –"

"Of course something is wrong!"

"No! Her stomach!" Mikaela grabbed Sam and yanked him away, jabbing a finger. "Look! _Look_!"

Sam saw what she meant in a split second.

Something was bulging, pulsating under the woman's shirt. Like drumbeats, over and over and over and….

Impossible.

The bug was huge. A wasp, from the looks of it, shoving its massive head out from under her stomach, blood in its teeth and face and puss dripping from two massive, ruby red eyes. It whipped its head back and forth as if trying to shake off the blood, but it did no good, and Sam found himself shrieking in pure terror.

"_Oh my God_!" Mikaela screamed. "_The hell is that! Sam_!"

Sam looked down at the bloody knife.

"Kill me…." The woman begged, tears brimming around her eyes. "_Please…"_

"Please…"

The wasp sprang free and the woman fell. Her body hit the ground with a thud and the wasp bolted, but Sam stabbed it with the knife, the tip piercing through its bloody wings. The thing squirmed around and kicked its barbed legs, but even though it was the size of a rat - a rat with flaring wings and glowing eyes - it was still strong enough to wriggle out of Sam's grip.

Insane.

Impossible.

But Sam had come to realize that the impossible was always possible. The creature, the bug, bolted. Sam scrambled after it, past the dead woman, catching it again before it could dart under a dumpster.

"Kill it, kill it," Mikaela was sobbing, staring at the woman, and Sam was unable to speak or think clearly. He stabbed the bug again, and it shuddered, dying. And then again. Again.

Finally, it gave a sigh, puss spewing from its lips, and died.

Silence.

"Give me your jacket," Sam said softly.

"W-What?"

"Your jacket. Now."

Mikaela shoved the article of clothing his way. He took it, and gingerly used his foot to wrap the wasp in it. He held it by the sleeved and held it up, blood dripping past the fabric and onto the ground.

The woman from Seattle was not moving.

Dead.

"Leave her…leave her for N.E.S.T…they'll come for her," Mikaela breathed. "We need to get this back to Ratchet…Oh, God, please get it back to Ratchet…."

So they ran, and did not look back.


	2. Loss

Zora Parker was bored.

It wasn't a new thing for her. Working had its downsides, especially when it came to where you're working, and who you're working for. Working at a little dollar store nestled in the corner of a shopping mall wasn't Zora's idea of glamorous, but it beat cleaning sewers and delivering pizza's or whatever. Zora had never been sure why she had found a job like this. A job that paid little and took up more time. Maybe it was because Drake Talent had convinced her to do it.

Like Drake knew anything about hard work. He was lazy, standing beside her, next to the register, with his elbows resting on the counter, head resting in his hands. He looked like a zombie. Or one of those fake corpse's you get on Halloween.

So Zora leaned over and flicked him in the back of his head. He jolted, as if he had been electrocuted, sitting up immediately, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"What time is it?"

"There's a clock on the wall. Check for yourself," Zora said to him. He just shook his head and pulled up an old wooden stool from under the counter, sitting on it, running long slender fingers through his mop of black hair. He looked ready to fall out again in some lazy, sleeping heap.

There were so many different reasons why Drake Talent was Zora's best friend. Many, many reasons. Zora would make a checklist, if she had to.

Plus, he was kind of cute. Not that Zora would tell him that. Never. It would ruin a great friendship, wouldn't it?

And who was to say he would like her back. Zora didn't even think he liked too-pretty girls like her.

"Where's Dex?" Drake asked, hopping off the stool.

"Downstairs."

"Doing what?"

"I dunno! I don't follow the guy around."

Drake rolled his eyes. Then, lowering his voice, looking around to make sure he wasn't heard, he said, "he's probably down there eating and drinking or whatever while we're down here doing all the work."

Zora turned to face him, hands on her hips. "If you haven't noticed, we're a little _slow_ today. We've haven't had near as many customers as usual. So its kind of unfair to say that we're doing all the work when, really, we haven't been working at all."

"You and your logic," Drake huffed and hoisted himself up so he sat on the counter. "You_ know _that Dex has a thing for you."

"Is _that_ why you don't like him?"

"No…" Drake faltered for a moment, then, softly, he said, "he's a douche. He thinks he better than everyone else. Like he's got so much money or whatever," Drake crossed his arms. "Plus, he hates me."

"Why does he hate you?"

"Cause' he thinks that you and I are, like, an _item _or whatever," Drake rolled his eyes, then saw Zora's clinical look and shook his head. "I mean, we _aren't_, are we?"

"Whatever you want to believe, Drake," Zora reached up and patted his cheek. "Whatever you want."

Drake opened his mouth to retaliate, but slammed it shut when Dex lumbered into view, carrying a large cardboard box in one hand. His sleeves were rolled up high, showing off his muscle, like he was advertising something.

Zora had to admit that Dex was pretty hot. All muscle, brown hair, eyes so dark that you could lose yourself in them.

He didn't speak to Drake, just gestured for him to get off the counter so he could put down the box. He winked at Zora. Glared at Drake. Drake glared back. Zora mentally face palmed.

"I don't mean to interrupt the telepathic dispute, but what do you want us to do with the stuff in the box?" Zora asked, standing on her toes to peer down into the box. Oh, goodie, she thought. More items to unload.

"Take it out. Stack it. The usual," Dex shrugged. "We have more downstairs," he looked around at the store. It was empty. "Hm. Slow day. "

"We noticed," Drake mumbled, looking down.

But Dex appeared to have not heard him because he was already making his way downstairs, giving Zora one last look, a gleam in his eye that made Zora uncomfortable. As soon as he was out of earshot, Drake groaned.

"Isn't it illegal for a manager to have a sexual relationship with his employee?"

"Where did you read that?"

"Internet."

"Yes, Drake, because the internet always tells the truth," Zora rummaged through the box, eyes focused on the many things it held. More work. "Exhibit A would be that stupid alien site you always look at."

"Hey, I can't help it. They have some pretty persuasive arguments regarding those aliens in Egypt. Kind of hard not to believe them."

Zora bit her lip, sighing and turning to fully face Drake, the box and its contents abandoned.

"Those 'aliens' were nothing but a hoax. Alien's don't exist, man, how many times have I told you that?"

"This would make it the thirty-sixth. But that's besides the point," Drake leaned forward. "I believe they exist, so, yeah. Believe what you want to believe. But don't come crying to me when your phone jumps up and punches you in the face one morning."

They had a pretty good laugh out of that, and Zora playfully shoved her friend.

"You're crazy, you know that, Drake Talent?"

Drake winked at her, and this wink wasn't at all unpleasant.

"You know you love it."

* * *

><p>Sam sighed for the hundredth time that day. He couldn't get the woman out of his mind. Her screams, all the blood, the uneven limbs….it didn't help that Ratchet kept going on and on about it.<p>

As soon as Sam and Mikaela had returned from Synapsis and given Ratchet the slug, the medic had practically locked himself in the Med bay, refusing to talk to anyone but Optimus. Sam and Mikaela had been instructed not to tell _anyone_ about the woman, for fear that the Decepticons would strike again ran deep at the base. Many would probably jump to conclusions, and Sam as sure that was the _last_ thing Optimus wanted.

Now, he sat in the Med bay on Bumblebee's shoulder, his fingers curled around his hand held game. Ratchet paced around the room, twirling a wrench in his hand. Each step had Sam bouncing up and down, and he reached out, gripping one of Bumblebee's shoulder armor.

"Geez, Ratchet, calm down," Sam barked, then cringed as the medic glared. "Sorry. I mean, figuring this out should be easy for you."

Ratchet stopped pacing. "I highly doubt that, Sam. It is a lot more complicated than you think."

Bumblebee whistled and held up his hand. Without hesitation, Sam stepped onto it, and was gently lowered onto the Autobot-sized table. The wasp lay out on its stomach, slime already beginning to pool around it. Sam wrinkled his nose as it wriggled around, and he fought back the urge to step on it. It seemed to have grown from the size of a rat to the size of Sam's shoe.

"That is incredibly gross. Grosser than when the little scientist con' shoved a worm thing up my nose," Sam shuddered at the memory.

"I haven't gotten a chance to take apart the slug completely._ However_, scans do show traces of Cybertronian metal." Ratchet said.

"Is it that bad?" Sam asked slowly.

"It depends on how the metal is being used. In this case, though, yes." Ratchet extended a metal finger, poking the slug gently. Sam watched as it squirmed, shooting a spray of black liquid from its invisible pores. Bumblebee, who had been standing behind Sam, leaped back.

"What do you think _happened_ to that woman?" Sam asked quietly.

"_That _is what I am trying to figure out," Ratchet poked the wasp again, harder this time. Sam looked up and saw his optics directed at the ground. "I-I was not able to save the human femme in time for her to be…."

Sam held up his hand, silencing the Autobot.

"Ratchet, it's alright. You're not perfect. Just do some more research, and you'll be able to find the answer in no time."

"I hope." Ratchet sighed. "I must get back to work. Sam, I suggest that you leave."

Sam nodded and hopped back onto Bumblebee's hand. The little scout whistled and walked out the door, Sam clutching one of his metal fingers. Bee avoided stepping on the humans, all of which bypassed him without looking up. Sam spotted Mikaela, making her way down the hall, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. He motioned for Bumblebee to stop.

"Ssup, Kaela'" he hopped off Bee's hand and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek. Her bright eyes where wet with tears, and he wiped them off with his thumb. "W-what's wrong…?"

"They found a-another….person." She wiped her eyes rested her head against Sam's chest. "Someone else…a man is hacking up a lung. And I mean _literally _hacking up a lung."

Sam glanced down the hallway. Lennox and Epps where both running towards one of the storage rooms, Ironhide thundering behind them. He had his cannons raised, something Sam was used to him doing, but it made him feel uneasy.

"Wait here." He placed his hands on Mikaela's shoulder and kissed her on the cheek again. Then, he took off, sprinting after Lennox and Epps.

The hallway he was in was abandoned, the only human being Sam, Lennox, and Epps. Ironhide had hung back, grunting a few words to Lennox. He barely noticed Sam dash under his legs and slide beside Lennox.

_Krrrrraaaafffff_

The cough seemed to shake the walls. Lennox had a firm grip on the door handle to the storage room.

"Sam?" He was distracted for a moment at the sight of the teenager. "What are you doing here?"

"Coming to see what all is about. Go on. Open the door." Sam glanced back at Ironhide, who nodded at Lennox. The soldier's usually radiant face looked dead.

_Krrrraaaafffff_

Lennox yanked the open, leaping back just as something wet and raw hit the door. Epps jumped back, yelping. Sam heard a grunt, then the whirling of Ironhide's cannons.

"What is that?" Ironhide rumbled.

The human laying inside the storage room was sitting against the wall, hugging his knees, skin so pale that it looked like a sheet of paper. He was shivering, but Sam knew, and everyone knew, for that matter, that it wasn't from the cold.

_Krrrraaaafffff_

The force of the cough was like an explosion, and blood erupted from his eyes and ears and mouth and he flew forward, head smacking against the floor. _  
><em>

"Primus," Ironhide said, kneeling down to peek through the human sized door. "Its….that human pest, Inspector Galloway!"

Lennox didn't respond, neither did Epps or Sam.

Something was pushing itself out of his stomach, tearing through the fabric of his clothes. Lennox shouted and grabbed his gun, as did Epps. Sam only stared, transfixed, mortified as the creature oozed its way out of the man.

The man twitched.

The creature was a wasp. Huge for its size. It could eat Sam's dog in one bite. It could probably devour Sam, if it wanted to. Its wings were wet with blood, rendering it flightless. Two huge, red eyes surveyed their surroundings. It crawled over Galloway's stomach, ignoring the way he thrashed around, and stretched out is bloodied wings.

"The fuck..." Lennox breathed, backing up. "What is that?"

"_Ironhide_," Epps said out of the corner of his mouth. "Now would be a good time to-

He never got to finish. The wasp launched itself into the air, legs spinning. Sam was able to duck just in time for the wasp to go ailing over his head. Ironhide bellowed as the thing latched itself onto his shoulder. It crawled towards his face, spitting undecipherable words from its horrible mouth.

Ironhide grabbed it just in time, wrapping his metallic fingers around it and ripping it in half. The wasp squirmed around, eager to get out of Ironhide's hands. The mech snarled and ripped it in half again, letting the severed parts hit the floor in front of a startled Sam.

Galloway, or what was left of him, was no longer writhing and screaming. Sam made a move to rush over, but was taken down by a flying tackle from Epps.

"Don't touch him!" Epps practically bellowed. "For the love of God, don't touch him!"

"I'm so friggin confused!" Lennox shouted, giving a glance at Galloway's body. The poor man was limp, eyes shut. "What _was _that? A Decepticon?"

"If it was a Decepticon, we would have been able to detect it." Ironhide dropped the rest of the wasp. Epps, being the daring fellow he is, walked over and poked it with his foot.

"_Part _Decepticon?" Sam suggested. "I was just talking to Ratchet. He said it had some Cybertronian metal in it or something. So I'm pretty sure it couldn't have been built by humans."

"We wouldn't have been able to obtain those resources." Lennox added.

"No. It was like what happened to that lady from Seattle…." Sam muttered.

"What woman?" Ironhide, Lennox, and Epps said simultaneously.

Sam froze. Two pairs of eyes and one pair of optics swiveled towards him. Lennox's held confusion and anger, Epps just shot a pitying gaze in Galloway's direction. Ironhide's optics were fierce and full of rage. He had never seen such diverse expressions on any of them, and his heart suddenly felt like lead, weighing him down.

"_It's..._Mikaela and I, we were out, alright? We saw this woman with this knife and she had tried to kill herself but she couldn't cause'..." Sam wiped his eyes. They were wet. "And I tried to help her but I couldn't..."

"Sam," Ironhide said softly.

"This is not going down well," Sam said with one last heaving sob. "We have a problem. A serious problem."


	3. Plague

**I do not own Transformers. All rights go to Michael Bay and Hasbro**

* * *

><p>"A party?"<p>

"Yeah, can you believe it?"

Zora sat on the edge of her bed, Drake twirling around and around in _her _desk chair. The desk chair she had forbade him to sit in since _he _had broken it multiple times. But Drake didn't listen to anybody.

She put her laptop down, leaving it open, and stood up.

"Should we go?"

"It's Dex's party," Drake shrugged. Then, he frowned. "I mean Dex's _brothers _party. His brother has money and a nice house, remember?"

"He didn't put that in the E-mail."

"Why would he?" Drake scoffed and crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair, kicking his feet against the carpet so he spun around and around and around. "It'll make him look good. Like he needs any more women groveling at his feet."

"You really don't like that guy, do you?"

"He bugs me."

"Everyone bugs you, Drake. I mean, Dex is a pervert, I know. He constantly flirts with me, I know. That's about all he does. He's not worth your anger, Drake, trust me. I'm not blind, you know."

"Yeah," Drake frowned. Then, "but there's just something about him. He's….different. Like, _different,_ different. And its not a good kind of different."

"Oh my God. You think he's an alien."

"Don't jump to conclusions," Drake exclaimed. "I never said that."

"The way you said it made it sound like you were implying it."

"Oh, pulling out your mom's old phrase on me?" Drake raised his hands in a placating gesture.

Zora shook her head. "Look, forget it. Are we going to the party or not?"

"I _guess_."

"You don't sound so sure," Zora cocked and eyebrow. "You sound skeptical."

Drake didn't answer. After a while, he stared up at the ceiling.

"Hey, can I see your laptop?"

Zora handed him the computer, picking up her phone, scrolling through the list of contacts. Of course. She had Dex's phone number from when….

Loud noises snapped her out of her trance. Drake had turned the volume up full blast, the sound echoing off the walls. Screams. Explosions. Metal against metal.

"Oh, I love this website," Drake said loudly, almost having to shout over the noise. "The Real Effing Deal? Ever heard of it."

"Turn it off," Zora said loudly. "You're giving me an earache."

Groaning, Drake turned down the volume, and then turned off the computed, placing it on her desk, standing, arms crossed. He grabbed his jacket from off Zora's bed, pulling it on.

"Hey, its getting late," Drake peered at his watch, then up at Zora, brows crinkled. "I should go."

"See you tomorrow?" Zora glanced up at him. "We have off tomorrow. Wear something nice for Dex's party."

"Yeah," Drake shrugged, then went silent, as if he was contemplating over something.

Then, he leaned over and gave Zora a small kiss on the cheek.

Zora froze. Stopped breathing just for a moment. Didn't say a word as Drake muttered something, either an apology or a final goodbye, a shuffled downstairs.

Zora stood there, wishing there was something she could say.

* * *

><p>Optimus Prime had faced many things in his long, long life. Hostile aliens, some small, some so big that they could take out a full-grown mech. He was prepared, most of the time, a trait he shared with many Autobots.<p>

But this was just down right creepy.

Ironhide had come barreling into his office, his hands covered in human blood, yammering on in Cybertronian about Inspector Galloway. Optimus was only to grasp a couple of the words before he understood, and was off, driving down the hallway in their alt mode.

"Is he still online?" Optimus asked Ratchet. He bent over the medic who was busy operating on the human inspector, the same human who had temporarily shut down N.E.S.T. The same humans who had not let the Autobots act on their own free will for a short amount of time.

"Barely."

Optimus pinched the bridge of his nose, making a noise of disgust. Now was not the time to panic, of course, no matter how much he wanted to. He had to stay calm. Calm and controlled, like he had always been taught.

But now already, in the course of a few hours, things had gone from panicked to desperate. Since the battle of Egypt, since his death, the Decepticon's had been relatively dormant. Inactive. There was nothing on this planet that would interest them, Ratchet had observed. The Allspark was gone. The Sun Harvester was gone.

But the Autobots were still alive and kicking.

Optimus told himself not to jump to conclusions. Already, two people had gotten sick. Who was to say that it wasn't one of Earth's strange phenomenons? He had browsed through Earth's history. Had read about all its fires and earthquakes, all its sicknesses and plagues. From what he had read, Earth could cook up some serious natural disasters.

He stole a glance at the dying human, suddenly fearing for the man that he considered an enemy. He was white as a sheet of paper, drained of life. He had those same, blank eyes he had seen on so many offline organics.

He put Galloway on the list of dead humans, along with the woman from Seattle.

"It's a sickness. It has to be," Ratchet spoke, his tone mild. He was working on the human, still, trying to pump blood into an already dead heart. "One from Cybertron."

"I thought all of the bugs were destroyed, along with the planet." Optimus cast a glance at the bug laying a little ways away from Galloway. "Even if it is from Cybertron, why is it affecting humans?"

"Unknown. There is one operation, though, that may be successful. Permission to continue?"

Optimus nodded.

* * *

><p><strong>I know. Not very exciting. Zora is going to meet some peculiar people….or should I say Autobots…in the next chapter. Stay tuned and send me ya' feedback<strong>


	4. Shattered

"Did it work?"

"No."

Optimus looked up at Ratchet, his lip plates pulled into a line.

What kind of strange phenomenon was this where humans spewed blood and hacked up their insides? Even Optimus was having a hard time making sense of it. Ratchet wasn't any better. It was happening so fast…too fast…

Ratchet unloaded everything to Optimus, telling him about a soldier named Jenna and how she had come crawling, wrapped in her own bed sheets, so sick that she could barely talk. Coughing, drenched in sweat, delirious, but not those coughs that had killed Galloway.

Not yet.

Just in a matter of seventy-four hours things had gone from bad to worse. And Optimus was just a bystander to it all, unable to do anything while Ratchet and Wheeljack and Jolt ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to cook up some type of solution.

He was still clinging onto that small sliver of hope that it was just one of Earth's natural disasters.

Whatever. Like that was likely.

But something else was on Optimus' processors. A memory. And it had nothing to do with the bugs or Ratchet or anything like that, no, it had something to do with himself. His state of mind, his sanity.

He had never felt so angry when he had fought the Fallen. Never in his whole life had he ever thought he was capable of that much rage.

He had killed the Fallen. Crushed his head then shoved his hand right through his spark, the motion feeling so utterly _good_ that it had made him want to shout. Tear apart the body and kick the pieces, yelling in contempt for his fallen enemy.

He had to put himself back together. Was he feeling guilty? No. Sad? No. He just never, ever wanted to feel that much pain and anger again.

Monster. Those words had been spoken to him after the battle. Monster. And Optimus Prime was no monster.

Ratchet's words snapped him out of his trance and he glanced at the yellow Autobot with saddened eyes.

"Take a rest, Prime," Ratchet said. "Go for a drive – something. I'll cover for you."

"You need to relax more than I do. I have duties to preform, Ratchet."

"And I don't?"

"That's not what I…"

Ratchet silenced him by shaking his helm. He let out a puff of air, optics scanning the surrounding, as if someone might be listening. Then, he leaned forward.

"You being stressed out isn't going to help with the situation," he paused, then said, "I heard Synapsis is quite nice at night. No humans buzzing around to cause any traffic."

"I do-"

"As your medic I'm telling you to go," Ratchet huffed and crossed his arm, a satisfied smirk toying at the corner of his lip plates.

"And as your commander, I am telling you to get back to work," Optimus said jokingly. Ratchet rolled his optics, and if he had been in the med bay, Prime was sure he would have gotten a wrench upside the head. He shook his head knowingly and watched as Ratchet's shoulder hung in defeat, and he sauntered away.

Optimus cocked his head to the side. Hm. Maybe a drive wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

><p>Drake pulled up beside Zora, smirking and pulling off his helmet. He rested it under his arm, shooting Zora a look. She had been a little off since Drake had kissed her.<p>

"Quit it. You know were not here for you're entertainment." Zora hissed as several guys, jocks by the looks of it, whistled and crowed. She cringed and zipped up her jacket, the way they leered and stared making her feel uneasy.

"Hey, if Dex tries anything, anything at all, come tap me on the shoulder," Drake shrugged and hopped off his motorcycle. Zora admired the deep blue paint, grateful it had spent yesterday at the shop her father owned getting fixed up.

"He won't try anything," Zora reassured him. "I swear."

"If he does…I will freaking _bury _him."

"What are you? My bodyguard?"

"I'm just saying," Drake wrapped his arm around Zora's shoulder. "If you ever want me to blow up his house, give me a call. All I gotta do is slap some duck tape over the license plate of the bike and -"

Zora silenced him with a sharp jab to the ribs. Dex walked out of the house, music pouring out the door. When he closed it, the sound could still be heard, monotone, but still loud.

"Look who showed up," He sneered.

"Yeah. We came. Now step aside, Dexter, the drinks are waiting," Drake pushed past Dex, Zora in tow. Zora met Dex's eye, saw a spark of lust, and hurried after Drake, more than eager to get the party over with.

Drake pushed open the double doors, and Zora was greeted by the sound of loud music and the smell of alcohol. She barely noticed Dex gently shut the door behind her.

Most everyone ignored the trio, some to engrossed in conversation to notice, others to busy stumbling around, carrying bottles of beer. Zora pinched the bridge of her nose and make a noise of disgust.

"Home sweet home." Dex crowed loudly.

For once, Drake didn't respond. He was too busy eyeing the beverages and food.

"Don't you dare!" Zora had to shout to be heard over the music. "You promise me!"

"I did no such thing!" Drake shouted.

"Liar!"

Drake, cackling madly, disappeared into the crowd. Zora sighed and shook her head, happy that Dex wasn't around. In fact, Dex had disappeared also, blending into the crowd.

"This is going to be a _long _night." Zora muttered.

* * *

><p>Barricade hated it.<p>

Hated the loud music, the drinking, the humans, _everything._

_Why _had Megatron assigned him this task? Barricade had no idea. Starscream would have been better. Being a jet and all, he wouldn't have to worry about the Autoscum catching up to him.

Barricade sat in a chair using his rarely-used human holoform. The music was so loud it made his audio receptors throb. Humans spun around in the center of the room, drinking, dancing, doing all kinds of things that Barricade found absolutely revolting. A group of human femme's sat in the corner, hands over there mouths, pointing and giggling and turning red.

He ignored them. He had more important things to deal with. The pocket of his holoform pants held a vial, small, but deadly. He would have preferred to capture a human and inject them, but Megatron wanted the disease to spread before the Autobots found out.

He just needed a victim.

He spotted her, sitting in the corner, being bombarded with questions from a human male. She held a glass bottle in one hand, the other toying with the blue tablecloth. She was ignoring the male, her eyes focused on other things.

That other thing being his human holoform. He had let Skywarp pick his appearance, and apparently, it appealed to the human femme.

Barricade grinned.

In seconds, he had pulled up a chair beside the two humans. In the eerie light, Barricade saw the human male raise his eyebrows, looking him directly in the eye.

"Isn't it nighttime outside?" He said, gesturing to the sunglasses Barricade wore to hide his Decepticon red eyes. He tapped them gently.

"I believe so."

"Is it the glare of the moon that's bothering ya'?"

Barricade's fingers curled into a deadly fist. He calmly composed himself, knowing that he could snap the ugly fleshy in half if he wanted to.

"Drake," the femme groaned, swishing the content in the glass bottle around, "leave him alone. What's your name?"

Barricade would have usually growled and "told her off" but he was feeling rather good today, something he had felt in a long while. He pulled up the first human name his processors could come up with.

"John."

Drake snorted, grabbing the glass bottle from the femme's hands and downing it in one gulp.

"You look normal."

The femme cut in, voice sharp. "Of course he looks normal, Drake. You are just all delusional. How many beers _have _you had?"

"Several. But it's quality over quantity, babe," Drake burped and giggled, and then, making a bold move , leaned over and kissed the female on the cheek. The girl wiped it away and glared.

Barricade stared, snickering as the stupid human practically fell out of his chair, sliding across the floor like a fish. He glanced at the femme, who seemed calm and composed.

"Ignore him," She eyed the empty beer bottle with a look of distaste. Barricade didn't blame her. It was like high-grade Energon, something he wasn't as used to drinking as his fellow Decepticons.

"He's a klutz. Cute, though." The femme snorted.

Barricade didn't answer. The femme was strange, calm for a human, unlike the male.

"What is your designation?" Barricade asked, leaning forward. The sharp needle in his pocket forgotten for a split second.

"Oh, um, Zora Parker. John, was it? I haven't seen you around here…." The femme's eyes flickered away from Barricade for a moment, and she groaned.

"Uh-oh…."

"Hm?"

"Dex."

Barricade smirked. Just in time. Dex always had a tendency to be late. He came over, a fake smile plastered on his face. Barricade wasted no time grabbing him, ignoring the protest from the femme, and dragging him into the empty hallway.

"You pit-spawned slagger! Where the frag have you been?"

Dex squirmed out of Barricade's grip, smugly crossing his arms.

"I had a few things to see too. I never expected Megatron to send you this early. I haven't even completed the mission!"

"Megatron is upset," Barricade whispered. "A_ shame _it would be for _you _to be the cause of his discomfort." His voice held sarcasm.

"Yeah, yeah, you all love me and crap. _I'm _not the one who ditched the Mission City battle." Dex crossed his arms.

"You were not present, either."

"I'm a Pretender. Can you_ honestly_ see me going up against that Autoscum, Ironhide? I heard the last Pretender was taken out by a _human._"

Barricade growled. "Megatron sent me to finish the job he so _graciously _assigned you."

"Good for him."

"You _really _want to get onto Megatron's bad side?"

"Pfft. Starscream's already done just that. I have nothing to lose, anyway."

Barricade spun, nearly slapping Dex in the back of the head. In seconds, he was across the hallway, wrenching open the doors. Dex slid beside him, spewing out curses in Cybertronian.

"Fragging Autoscum! They've already picked up our signal!"

"Tough for them. Starscream is already here," Dex rubbed his hands, his grin fading as he saw the red haired femme sitting in the corner. "She won't be harmed, right….?"

"Don't tell me you value a human's life?" Barricade reached out to grab him, realizing that his gesture was less effective in his holoform.

He deactivated it just as the windows shattered.


	5. Saved

Screaming. People were screaming, all of them, tumbling as plaster rained down from the ceiling, chairs and tables were flipped over, and windows were reduced to nothing but shattered little pieces.

Zora was one of the ones who fell, first, toppling out of her chair as the window net to her exploded in a shower of glass.

She hid under a table, hands over her head, sitting in her own personal puddle of spilt beer. She hadn't screamed, hadn't even had time to register what had happened. One moment, Drake, singing show tunes in some slurred voice, and then the next, nothing.

She looked up.

And then she did scream.

It was like looking at the devil. Or something like the devil. The thing – whatever it was – its red eyes stood out the most, two glowing ominous orbs. Talons raked across the wall as the creature leaned down, simply ripping that part of the wall away, and Zora found herself staring directly into those hellish eyes.

"What do we have here? A little bird that has fallen out of its nest?"

The creatures voice was low, raspy, with a hint of amusement. And Zora could just stare from under the table, limbs frozen.

Don't breath, Zora told herself, and thought the screams and shouts of the people trying to scramble away, she was able to cling to whatever part of her mind was left.

Run.

Feet scrambling against the beer slicked floor, knocking the chair to the side, Zora dashed out from under the table just as the fist crashed down, the table buckling under the weight.

The sheer strength caused the floor to shake, and finally, even after all that had happened, one question began to form in Zora's mind.

What was that thing?

"Drake!" Zora had to shout to be heard over the frightened cries of the other, trapped like she was, like a caged mouse.

Drake was cowering in a corner, and Zora slid beside him, indifferent to his violent shuddering. She grabbed him and shook him, hard.

"What is that thing?"

"Your long lost cousin," he replied dryly, not taking his eyes off the thing. It hadn't seen them yet, was still confused by the mass of people.

"Har-har. So funny."

Drake opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off when an explosion shook the whole building.

An explosion so powerful that chairs flew back and tables were sent flying, and a mass of people were blasted back, burning, crying, screaming.

The thing was shooting. Not bullets, something far more powerful.

"Oh, God," Zora began to pant, hysteria setting in and causing her to giggle like a madwoman. "Oh, God, please tell me this isn't real…please tell me this isn't real and we're both in a dream and…oh, God…."

Drake grabbed her and dove, sending them both tumbling, as a chair crashed over their heads, sending little wood chips flying.

"Make it go away," Zora whispered, pressing herself against the wall as the thing continued to kill.

"_Starscream_!"

Dex. Strolling right out into the middle of the room, not the least bit fazed that half his house was gone and that his guest, his own party guest were either dead or dying on the ground, drowning in their own pools of blood.

Only Zora and Drake remained, two bystanders to a horrific crime.

"Enough," Dex's voice did not quaver, and he placed his hands on his hips, staring up at the creature.

Run! Don't be a fool! Run! Zora wanted to scream, warn him that he wasn't dealing with some playground bully.

The thing…it would kill him, surely, like it had all those other people with the same, satisfied look in its insane, hellish red eyes.

Drake was squeezing Zora's arm so hard that it was beginning to go numb.

"This wasn't the plan! We needed a victim! Not _victims_!" Dex's voice was laced with so much steel that it even made Zora cower. "I asked you to take one human. Not kill them all."

"A shame. I had two more left," the massive creatures' talons clicked together, and that was when Dex seemed to acknowledge Zora and Drake's presence. His eyes widened, and his teeth and fist clenched.

"I left the female, like you instructed," the creature turned. "The boy is yours. I have some Autoscum to terminate."

"Like the girl matters to me anymore."

The thing leaped into the air, and Zora saw its parts shift and things that looked surprisingly like winds bend and mold and, clanking audibly, merge together in one astonishing display that Zora would have wanted to get on video. Get on video and watch over and over and over because she had never seen something so incredible.

The roar of the jet was so loud that it hurt Zora's ears, and in moments the thing was gone.

"Dex…" Drake breathed, his grip on Zora's arm slackening. He began to rise on shaky knees, stepping over a body, not even gasping as he did so.

Zora followed, reluctant as she saw a glint in Dex's eye.

And then Dex reared back and sent a massive backhand blow to Drake's chest that sent him flying, cartwheeling in the air before landing on a table.

He did not move, and a scream tore at Zora's throat as she rushed over, only to be stopped by something heavy hitting her back and sending her sprawling face first into the floor, claws digging in into her backs as Dex – or what was Dex – launched himself at Drake.

Madness, Zora thought, this is madness.

She hadn't seen Dex, or whatever he was change. Transform, like the bigger robot had. She saw something like a tail disappear behind a table as Dex dragged Drake down to his doom.

A loud, audible scream, and a curse. Zora rolled to her feet as Drake kicked Dex in the face.

"Run!"

"Way ahead of you!"

Zora sprinted towards the mangled wall, leaping over bodies and splashing through blood, the whole room seeming empty, empty until you looked down.

She was almost out the door when again something hit her, like a fright train, sending her flying, head cracking against concrete.

Her head swam. She couldn't focus…couldn't…

Something impaled her. She felt the pressure, felt the tearing of muscle and the twisting of bone as Dex's tail – that long, spiked tip – slid effortlessly through her flesh.

A scream tore at the back of her throat, but all that came out was a miserable moan, and then, as Dex flicked his tail and pulled her back, a guttural sigh. Her heels brushed against the concrete, the end of the tail protruding from her chest and dripping blood onto the ground.

She opened her mouth again, but there was no snide remark to toss in his direction. Nothing could escape her mouth but blood and screams and pleas for mercy as he pulled her back against him, letting her feet hover just a few inches off the ground.

Her hands scrambled with the spike through her back, pushing it back with pitiful strength in an attempt to get it out of her body. But it did not budge and all she earned from it was blood-slicken palms and a sweaty brow.

A flash of red, and Dex twisted his tail, digging the spike deeper into her body

"You were always the beautiful one," he breathed in her ear, the feel of his metal cheek against hers foreign, and causing her pain and misery to increase, tenfold. She desperately clawed at the spike, but its sharp tip cut through the flesh of her hands, and she couldn't hold back a low, guttural groan of sheer agony.

"Always so_ smart_…." Dex bared his teeth, and brushing against her ear were his sharp incisors, dotted with blue saliva, as he ran them down her cheek. "And brave. Oh, yes, you were so brave to try and resist me…"

She felt something slithering across her lips, and, with a flash of horror realized that it was his tongue. His clawed fingers dug into her cheek as he gripped her face, twisting her neck so he could languorously use his tongue to lap up the trickle of blood dribbling from her mouth, leaving a red smear in its wake.

"Such a shame you have to die."

_He was going to kill her. And then Drake, and then everyone else if she didn't do something….didn't stop him or hurt him or….._

A loud hiss, a puff of air against her cheek. Dex reeled back, still keeping his hold on her, and then threw out his hand.

It caught Drake squarely in the chest. The impact was like a buckshot, launching him into the air as if he had been shot out of a cannon. He cartwheeled and landed in a heap, limbs askew, moaning in pain.

Zora tried to scream, but there was nothing left.

It was then that Zora lashed out with her foot, a weak, poorly aimed blow to his ankle that had Dex grabbing her face again, jerking his neck around so hard that Zora feared he would _snap_ it. His fingertips brushed across her lips as she stared into the most hideous face imaginable, a demon with furious red eyes and a metallic face, incisors bulging from a horrific, disproportionate mouth.

"This is much to fun for me, sweetheart," he breathed, and as he spoke, his mouth curved upward in a smile.

She spat right in his face, the glob of red spittle striking him in the eye, and he reared back.

It gave Zora, and her rescuer, a precious second to act. An explosion of headlights so bright that it blinded both Zora, and Dex, the monster screaming and covering his eyes. With one simple flick of his tail, the spike slid out from her back, releasing a splash of blood and a scream.

A gunshot. Dex shrieked in her ear.

The creature was running, dragging its bleeding tail off into the night. Limping slightly, it kept a steady pace, and then was gone, leaving Zora standing.

The pain had been abandoned. The river of blood flowing from her chest and back was nothing compared to the sight before her, the sight of a massive semi.

Ten second later, it wasn't a semi any more.

"You're safe now."

And that was when the ground rushed up and smashed Zora in the face.


	6. Prime

Optimus Prime was not a medic.

But he knew a serious wound when he saw one. The female was leaking dark red lubricants, like humans usually did, but this was different. This was a large, large amount, pooling around her, forming puddles in the dips and curves of the asphalt.

So much blood.

_"Ratchet! Ratchet!" _He hollered through the link. The medic was not responding, probably caught up in a predicament of his own.

The girl was face down, red hair spread around her. He couldn't see her face and a part of him really, really didn't want to.

Off to the side, a boy moaned, arms and legs splayed out. He wasn't moving.

Optimus knelt down and dragged the two humans away from the burning building, wrapping his fingers around the girls waist and lifting her gently off the ground. He did the same to the boy, and once, he stirred, eyelids fluttering before falling silent once more.

Optimus could hear the female's erratic heartbeat, her short breaths, and could see the way her head lolled back and forth. The blood seeped through his metal fingers, staining them, the smell reaching his olfactory sensors and causing him to gag.

He knelt back down, a little ways away, in the back of an alley and let the humans slide gently from his hands. Looking around, sure that no Decepticons were present, he began to focus on the stemming the flow of blood from the girls chest.

He pressed his fingers softly against the wound, gradually increasing the pressure.

Oh, dear Primus, he begged. Let Ratchet come soon. Whether or not they would accept him when it was all over, he couldn't risk the lives of these two humans.

It was his duty to protect, and these too sure did need some protection.

Optimus looked up and saw the familiar flicker of red emergency lights, Ratchet swerving into view, transforming before he had even come to a stop. Behind him, Arcee and Ironhide, treading lightly.

And just in time, too.

The boy's eyelids fluttered, and he sat up, coughing. He shook his head and spat out a broken took, hair astray, eyes darting around.

And then, the screaming started.

It pierced through Optimus' audio receptors, stumbling back ever so slightly. The boy went silent and flung himself atop the girl, his hands fishing through the blood, coming up red. He looked at them, and then screamed again.

"Calm down, boy!" Ironhide shouted, and his booming voice caused the boy to cry out and begin _dragging _the girl away, even though not one of the Autobots had made a move to attack, or even _touch _them.

"Don't touch her!" He snarled, when Ratchet made a move, grimacing at the blood caked around the wound. Her face had paled and it was a miracle she hadn't bled out yet, and Optimus wondered if Primus had it in his plans for her to win.

He sure hoped so.

"Get away from me!" The boy was shouting, and Arcee shot him a pitying look. "You…what the hell is going on? What are you and what happened to…." He looked down, cradling the girl in his arms, pulling off his jacket. Optimus watched as he vigorously wrapped it around the female's chest, effectively stopping the blood from flowing.

"We're here to help," Ratchet said slowly. He reached out. "Let me see her, and I will be able to save her."

"No freaking way."

"Please," Ratchet pleaded. "That crude bandage of your will do nothing. She will _die_ if she doesn't get proper medical assistance."

The poor boy looked torn between keeping the girl, or giving her to Ratchet, who was softly urging his finger towards the limp form of the human. The boy's fingers were shaking, but he did not make a move. Only when Ratchet's finger brushed against the chest of the female did he act, scrambling back.

"What are you?" he looked at Ironhide, and then Arcee, and then Optimus. "No…no…it can't be true. You're those aliens, aren't you?"

"The term Autobots or….Cybertronians…would be more appropriate," Ironhide murmured.

"Oh my God….oh my God….I can't believe its true," the boys lips began to tremble and he let out a small whimper. "Oh, God…I've seen what they say about you guys and how you fight and everything…and that thing that attacked me was…."

"A Decepticon. Our notorious, uncivilized counterparts who want to enslave the human race," Optimus looked down at the girl who stirred. "Listen, we don't have much time. _She_ doesn't have much time."

The boy looked down at the female, horror washing over his features. This time, he did not resist when Ratchet reached down and lifted her off the ground, transforming, tucking her safety into the back seat.

"Get her back to N.E.S.T. quickly," Optimus said. "And check to be sure that she's clean."

And then Ratchet was gone.

The boy stood up, stumbled, and then fell as his leg gave wave with a sickening crunch. He wiped dirt and sweat and blood from his face, panting as he did so, trying to crawl, but the act was proved unsuccessful.

"It's my leg," he said. "I can't…"

Optimus reached for him.

"Don't!" he snapped, waving away his fingers. "I can do this. I can…"

"Quit being so stubborn, boy," Ironhide transformed down, leaving the boy's mouth agape. The doors popped open and his voice echoed from the cabin. "Get in."

"No. I don't want to go…."

"Get. In."

His words were not harsh and commanding, just cold. The boy gulped, and with a sideways glance in Optimus' direction, climbed into Ironhide's cab.

"I never caught your name," he said to Optimus, easing into the front seat.

"Optimus Prime."

"Drake Talent."

He smiled and shut the doors.

* * *

><p>Barricade found Dex on the side of the abandoned dirt road.<p>

Limping, he was, and tattered. Like someone homeless. He had shifted back to his human form, his tail gone and his hair covered in dirt. One of his eyes was swollen shut, oozing energon. His hand was tucked under his dirty, ripped jacket, and as Barricade pulled up beside him, he could see the trail of energon he was leaving as he walked.

"Stupid Prime…." He was muttered. "Shoots me in the fucking side and then doesn't even hesitate to finish the job….dammit, I was so close to having the girl…."

"You and Starscream," Barricade scoffed, hearing the jet streak overhead and then disappear. Going back to Megatron, he was, to report.

"Oh, har-har," Dex coughed, and then spat on Barricade's interior. The Cybertronian revved his engine, and then, in an act of defiance, opened his front doors so Dex would walk right into it.

The stupid pretended fell back on his rear, that one action causing his disguise to crumble. His skin melted away and Barricade found a hideous, disproportioned face shoving itself through his window.

"Do that again, glitch, and I will personally tear off your arm and glue them to you aft," Dex's chassis shook with laughter.

"Do that, Switchblade," Barricade internally grinned at the way Dex cringed at the use of his Cybertronian name, "and you won't have someone to drive you around to go dress shopping."

"Touché."

Dex stepped back as Barricade transformed, joints clicking, gears whirring. The police car towered over Dex, a facet that he deprived great pleasure from.

"It's a shame that you didn't get that girl," Barricade said, peering up at the moon, following Dex down the old road. Not one light twinkled, just the cooing of owls and the occasional flash of a rodent darting across the road.

"A great gift to Megatron, she would have made," Dex's tail trailed behind him swaying back and forth, barely hanging on by a few joints. With each step, a waterfall of energon splashed against the dirt, burning the through the soil and killing the grass around it. Dex's ankle had given way and he dragged it behind him.

"A perfect gift for Scalpel, as well," Barricade said. "You know how much he enjoys the human species. Especially the females."

"Let's just hope her organs are in tact next time we see her," Dex laughed, energon flying from his lips.

It wasn't funny, but Barricade laughed anyway.

* * *

><p>Sam was antsy, restless, especially since the base had been emptied of most of its residence. A majority had been called to Florida, where they were fighting the big, bad Decepticons. Of course, he had not been allowed to go, since he was not a soldier.<p>

At least he had Mikaela to keep him company. She was sitting at the base's kitchen, twirling her spoon around in a bowl of cereal.

"What do you think of this plague thing?" Mikaela asked, letting her spoon rest on the edge of the bowl. "I mean, after what happened to that Galloway dude….I don't get why anyone would _want _to leave the base."

"We still have the con's to worry about," Sam pulled up a chair to sit beside her, tossing a coke from one hand, before tossing it back to the other. "We can't just give up now."

"I know but….it just seems like were getting nowhere."

"We saved the planet from getting fried back in Egypt."

"No, you saved the planet. I just watched as you got blown up by Megatron." Mikaela pointed out, pushing the cereal away. Sam flinched, wondering if she knew that he knew she had gone a little too far. "Sorry. I'm just saying that the Decepticon's are really making an effort to get rid of us."

"Us humans, you mean?" Sam popped open his coke, taking a gulp of the fizzy soda. "C'mon, Mikaela lets not start pointing fingers."

"What do you mean?"

"It may not be the Decepticons. A human might have gotten control of some Cybertronian tech, upgraded a few machines, and sent them out on society." Sam winked. "Happens all the time."

"In your fantasies, you mean."

"Something like that."

"I'm just considering the plausible," Sam spread out his hands. "Both of our lives have taken every nightmarish turn for the worst. Whose not to say that this is a brand new chapter of another new adventure?"

"I think I've had enough adventures for a lifetime," Mikaela murmured, swirling her spoon around. Her black hair cascaded down her shoulder, like a waterfall, and Sam couldn't help but smile at how _gorgeous_ she was.

Strong and brave and beautiful and courageous….he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"I wish we could go see Bumblebee."

"I wish he could come see us."

"We'll be able to go to Florida soon. C'mon," Sam ran his fingers through her hair. "Florida…beach. Bikinis."

"An excuse for you to ogle," Mikaela said, smiling slightly.

"I'm just saying. I feel like swimming with the fish," Sam shrugged. "And not dancing with the bugs, if you're picking up what I'm puttin' down."

"First time I've ever heard you use that phrase," Mikaela looked up with him, taking a bite before standing and going to wash out the bowl.

"It's a gift."

"Smart terms? Or an uncanny knack for getting yourself into trouble," Mikaela craned her neck and pecked Sam on the cheek, and Sam pulled his girlfriend close, smiling into her hair.

"Oh, you know you love it."


	7. Alien

**Alright, I know that I'm updating quickly. I'm making the next chapter long and good, so I want to hurry up and post this one. You can thank me later.**

**I don't own it. Review. **

* * *

><p>The military base was small, only able to hold a minority of the N.E.S.T troops. It was nestled in the corner of Florida, right next to its border. It was one of the bases, though, closest to Diego Garcia. Trees surrounded it on three sides. You could see the ocean clearly, a shimmering mass of light blue. There was a town less than a couple miles away from the base.<p>

Now, Optimus sat in the med bay, watching Ratchet work on the human female. Her conditions were stable, something he hadn't expected from a victim of a wound of this magnitude. She wasn't writhing around in sheer agony like the female in Seattle had been, but she would twitch occasionally, as if she were trying to expel some disturbing thought from her brain.

Ratchet was muttering to himself, working away, paying no attention to the human slowly slip across the room, coming to stand beside Prime's foot. Optimus looked down at the tiny male human, optics curious. It was Drake Talent, Zora's friend, who was looking pale, and sick, a ghastly green color. He still carried a slight limp, but not as badly as before.

"H-hey….um…you're a robot, like him…." the male said, glancing at Ratchet and stumbling over each word.

"The correct term would be 'Cybertronian'," Optimus said, not one ounce of venom in his deep voice. However, the human cringed, as if hearing his voice pained him.

"S-sorry. I was just wondering, is Zora going to be all right?" The boy asked, peering up at Optimus.

"Yes," Prime said. "You are her friend, I presume?"

"Y-yeah. And you're a giant ro- I mean Cybertronian. The government has kept you guys hidden for this long?" Drake's eyes were wide, and for a second, they held anger and disbelief. Then, they softened as he glanced at Zora. "I mean, lives are at stake, man. They could have told us sooner."

"Humanity is not yet ready to know of our presence here on Earth," Optimus knelt down, offering Drake a gigantic hand. Drake stared at it, unsure, fearful. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he slid onto it, sitting and clutching onto one metal thumb. Prime settled back into a sitting position, the fragile human sitting in the palm of his hand.

"Please don't drop me…." Drake breathed. Optimus chuckled, the sound echoing off the walls. Ratchet twisted his head to glimpse at the duo, before going back to his work. Not wanting to disturb the medic with further conversation, Optimus stood, Drake still in his palm, and walked out of the med bay.

The base wasn't as full as usual, most of the soldiers having gone to town or still residing at Diego Garcia. Optimus was thankful, since he didn't have to worry about stepping on any humans. It was something that still haunted him, especially after seeing how the Decepticons held no respect or reverence towards the flesh creatures. He had seen them be stepped on one too many times.

He liked the base, it being so close to town that his won soldiers could take time off, and he liked the fact that it was so close to the beach. He only wished that Sam and Mikaela were here. They were two of his closest human allies( minus Lennox and Epps) who understood the Autobots for who they were. He only hoped that Drake and Zora would turn out like them. Although, that might have been to much to ask, considering the fact that there were a fair number of humans who would rather blast the Autobot's into deep space than have them on their planet.

Drake spoke up suddenly, his face a sickly shade of green. Optimus wondered if he enjoyed heights that much. "So, like, the incident in Egypt, it was all a fake? No terrorist?"

"Yes." Optimus would have said more, but he didn't feel like recalling the terrifying events back in Egypt. Too much pain and suffering. Plus, he only remembered fighting The Fallen, and the description Lennox had given him afterwards had lacked details.

"Oh. Well, at least I was right about one thing. You know, Zora didn't believe me when I told her."

"Humans have a tendency of having to see something before they decide if it is real or fake." Optimus pointed out.

"So, do you, like, fight these…Decepti-bots or something?" Drake asked.

"Decepticon's. They are bent on enslaving the human race."

"Ah. Fun, fun," Drake shrugged. "Ah well. I guess…. If they want to enslave the human race, someone has to stop them. I mean, I'd be glad to help or something."

Optimus saw right through the lie. The was his voice quavered at the end was a clear indication that he was bluffing. Optimus did not blame him for being afraid, though.

"Are there more of you? More Autobots, I mean." Drake asked, shifting his position as Optimus turned a corner, making his way towards the hangar. He saw Ironhide, standing, in deep conversation with William Lennox, who stood in front of him. Ironhide's optics shot up to focus on Optimus, before focusing back on the human before him. Arcee and Chromia were in a corner, in their alt modes, probably speaking through internal communications.

As soon as Drake took in the scene, his eyes went wide. Then, he smirked. "Question answered. What is this, an alien funhouse?"

"You could say that." Optimus replied, kneeling down. He began to transform, a simple process that he was used to. He was also used to the look on the human's face as he transformed. Awe.

Drake gulped, hands sweaty. "So, you turn into cars, too?"

"There are many things our species can do. However, there are many things our species and yours have in common. Some just choose to ignore it the truth."

"Yeah. I've heard that end part often. Just….not coming from a thirty-foot, metal alien."

* * *

><p>Zora Parker was dead, and nobody seemed to notice.<p>

Wait. Dead people didn't think. Dead people didn't hear. Dead people didn't dream, and Zora knew for sure that she was dreaming.

She was in space. That's right, the place where little kids always wanted to go. A barren, cold place with stars so close that it seemed you could reach out and grab them.

Reach for the stars. Huh, Zora now understood the phrase.

Zora couldn't pull herself together. Literally. She felt herself torn apart, cells, molecules, nerves, atom's, all split apart and spread out over the universe. She could see clearly, but she couldn't move. Couldn't do anything as a voice spoke in her mind, clear, audible and defined though Zora's confusion.

_We are watching you._

The voice lingered in Zora's subconscious mind, and she found it quite irritating. She wanted to see the owner of the voice, see its face, speak to it. The owner did not present itself, and Zora feared she would have to find it. Make it a game of hide and find-the-mysterious-voice. Zora tried twisting her head, realizing that she couldn't move. She wished her body wasn't split apart, atom by atom. That would make the task a whole lot easier.

_Do not fear, child. _

That same damn voice! Zora seethed quietly to herself. She wondered if she could speak in a dream and actually have control over what came out of her mouth. She decided to experiment.

_"Who the hell is there?"_ Zora shouted, surprised when her voice came out recognizable.

_You will find out in time, Zora Parker. Be patient._

Then, pain. Excruciating pain. Pain so bad that every atom burned. If she had been in her regular body, she would have been writhing in agony. In her split body, she could only scream, scream, and scream some more. Zora felt her body coming back together, unable to do anything about the pain, unable to control her own fate. Sort of like life.

Because in life, you didn't choose your own fate. It chose you.

_What have I gotten myself into now?_ She though, before blackness filled her vision.


	8. Healing

Sam and Mikaela had arrived at the base some time ago, tired and jet lagged as all get out. It wasn't usually that Sam was feeling "the burn," as Mikaela put it, but the previous days events seemed to be dragging his mind down deeper and deeper into the gutter.

Mikaela wasn't feeling to great, either, and Sam could tell by the way her shoulders were slouched, hair thrown messily into a bun, dark circles under her eyes as though she hadn't been getting enough sleep. She looked like she had been to hell and back, and as Sam sidled her up, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he wondered just how big of a toll the whole "plague" fiasco was taking on everyone else.

"This is a load of bull, Sam," Mikaela said a while later, arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes were directed towards the ground and nowhere else, not even Sam's face. He sat up on the table and rapped his knuckled gently against the top of her head, out of habit.

"You think I haven't figured that out already? Listen, Kaela',I'm no stranger to the supernatural."

"Neither am I. But this has gone on long enough. You would've though by now….." Mikaela trailed off and shook her head, locks of black hair falling around her eyes. She shoved them away, stood up, and went to rummage through the kitchen's refrigerator. "You know what? Never mind. The government wants to issue a quarantine? Good for them. Lord knows we need someone else to step in at this point….."

"It's not really a quarantine, once you think about it. It's more of a 'stay inside as much as possible, and don't touch anyone else,'" Sam shrugged. "See? Just those simple steps could help save a life."

Mikaela pulled her head out of the refrigerator and came up with a soda, tossing it from hand to hand. She sauntered over and sat back down, popping the cap before saying, "I suppose. Hey, did you see those two new guys who got here a few days ago?"

"Soldiers?"

"No. Civilians. A girl and a boy. The boy was about your age, but I didn't get a glimpse of the girl. She was, erm…." Mikaela scratched her head. "Optimus told me that she wasn't doing to good."

"God help her," Sam breathed. "Did Optimus tell you how old she was?"

"About my age. The guy is a little younger than you."

"Did you talk to him?"

"The guy? Oh, not really," Mikaela took a long swig of soda and began tracing patterns in her slim stomach. Her eyes looked distant, lost, and Sam watched as she raised her head and said, "He looked like shit, Sam. So pale that he looked as if he had seen a ghost. And he was limping."

"Ugh. Not a good sign."

Mikaela opened her mouth to speak, but was silenced by a slight knock on the door. Through one of the windows, Sam saw a dark shape shifting back and forth, anxious.

"Speak of the devil…." Mikaela murmured, acting as if she were interested in examining the ingredient label on the soda. Sam, rising from his seat, went and opened the door.

The boy staring back at him was a few inches shorter, a little more buff than Sam, with the biggest, twinkling black eyes. He leaned against the doorframe, looking past Sam and at Mikaela.

Sam's shoulders visibly stiffened.

"I heard that you guys were in here," the boy said, glancing at Sam. He leaned off the doorframe. "You know, I don't think we 'normal' kids have met yet," he extended a hand. "Drake Talent."

"Sam Witwicky," Sam shook the hand, feeling Drake's nail dig into his skin. Mikaela approached, smiling, shaking Drake's hand as well.

"Mikaela Banes."

"Whoa, wait, Sam Witwicky? As in, Archibald Witwicky? The famous explorer?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "He was my great-grandfather."

Drake's eyes flickered to Mikaela for a moment, and then he relaxed, easing back, saying, "I wrote a blog on your grandfather. You do any blogging?"

"Only if there something to blog about," Sam said. "C'mon. You can sit down, if you want."

A few minutes later, Drake was sitting in one of the padded chairs, legs propped up on the table. He was peering around the modest little kitchen, his eyes taking in every little detail, every crook and dip, as if something were going to leap out at him. The way he held his soda can, fingers digging deep into the aluminum, spoke volumes regarding how uncomfortable he was sitting in an enclosed space.

Ah. The newbies always made Sam smile.

"How's the other one?"

"Zora?" Anger flashed briefly in Drake's eyes, and he said, "That's her name. And she's doing perfectly fine."

"She didn't seem fine when Optimus told me about her," Mikaela muttered, taking a sip of soda. She set the can down and crossed her arms back over her chest.

"Alright, yeah. She was bleeding a little."

Mikaela raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, a lot. A whole fucking lot for someone who was stabbed through the back. Ratchet said that he was positive she'd die of a punctured lung, but you know what I said?" Drake threw back his head and laughed. "I said, 'to hell with that idea.' My Zora is tougher than she lets on."

His Zora. The notion was almost sickeningly sweet, and Sam found himself cringing.

"Is she, like, your girlfriend?"

Drake opened his mouth, and then seemed to catch himself. "We've been friend longer than I can remember," he replied. "….Look, why do you want to know?"

"I was just being curious."

"I'd rather you weren't," Drake shot a nasty glare in Mikaela's direction. "Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

"I'm well aware," Mikaela said softly.

Maybe it was the bitterness in Drake's words that had Sam clenching his fist under the table. Not many people had the audacity to speak to Mikaela like that. Or him, for that matter. Most people stopped when they realized Sam had a massive artillery waiting outside, all in the forms of over nineteen gigantic alien robots.

Sam relaxed when he felt Mikaela's foot press against his. The two teens both were silent as they watched Drake chug down his soda.

"It's just….with all that's going on," Mikaela shoved a strand of black hair out of her eyes. "We just can't afford to lose anyone else."

"Don't worry about her. She'll be fine," Drake said, tipping the can to touch his lips. "And that, my friends, is a fact."

* * *

><p>Ratchet had gotten to work trying to prepare the antidote some time ago, but lack of energy had him drifting off. He snapped himself back into reality, though, which was no simple task. His body was desperately in need of a recharge, but was so <em>close <em>to the solution of the plague.

Or so he thought. Billions of years of training had taught him to always expect surprise. Even if the surprise was a human-eating, possible-Cybertronian-eating, metal insect capable of more damage than Optimus Prime himself could _ever_ cause.

It was simple, really. Only a dozen recorded people had died of the plague. The only problem was that the plague was notorious and deadly. Slight contact could cause it to spread quite easily. Ratchet had run as many scans as he could on it, only to find traces of Cybertronian metal. The idea that humans had created it had pretty much been wiped clean out of Ratchets processors. They weren't as advanced, and Ratchet was sure that the Autobots hadn't lent them any of their metal.

So, Ratchet took his time, delicately slicing open the wasp that had so thoroughly ended the life of Inspector Galloway. Wires poked through its flesh, its eyes made of the same material as Ratchets own optics. It looked like a horrifying, grotesque combination between organic and inorganic material. Something Ratchet hadn't seen in orns. Its legs twitched when Ratchet brushed a digit against it, and its eyes blinked, dead to the world. The sight had Ratchet reeling back in disgust.

The thing was sliced in half, but it was still animated, moving, seeing. Ratchets scans told him that the thing had no main life source, nothing to keep it alive, that it was just a drone. A drone capable of drilling through any surface, whether it be dirt or metal.

Perfectly capable of drilling through a Cybertronian, eating wires, tearing through their very sparks. So far, Ratchet knew it could infect humans easily, but how. That was the question that left him so befuddled. Moreover, Ratchet knew he had to get going on some type of antidote, too.

Because if it could indeed infect Cybertronians, Ratchet would have no way of stopping it.


	9. Guilt

Zora's awakening was far from pleasant.

She felt as if someone had dumped a cold bucket of water on her face. Everything around her erupted in flashes of blinding white light, her eyes taking their time getting used to the change in the environment.

Everything around her was a bustle of noise. The clank, clank, clank of metal feet and the cries of wounded patients.

What was that above? A light, dangling from the ceiling, its bulb casting at horrid white glare? Zora blinked and moved an aching arm to shield her eyes, but someone beat her too it.

It was the alien. Not the one like Dex, certainly not the one who had rescued her. Smaller, it was, and yellow with hints of white. It's headlights were planted against its chest, and that was when Zora realized the light wasn't coming from a light bulb hanging above, but the headlights of the monstrous behemoth in front of her.

Her legs kicked madly. She could imagine that massive hand reaching down to grab her, to squash her like a bug….

"Calm, child."

The thing could speak. It could speak, and Zora found herself opening her mouth to scream and shout, call for help. But there was no one to hear her, she knew.

Zora's fingers scrambled with the IV attached to her arm. She yanked it out, and a fresh spurt of blood followed. Hastily she fumbled with the thin tube that snaked its way up her nose.

Into her nose….Zora gagged and pulled it out, leaving a trail of green goo down her face. She wiped it away with her forearm, head whipping back around.

"Mikaela, help her up please."

A soft hand on her back jolted her out of whatever nightmare she had been residing in. It was a human hand, warm to the touch, obviously female, for it lacked those thick fingers and rough palm.

It rested against the small of her back, where she had been stabbed. Zora shrieked and jerked away.

The girl – Mikaela, as the alien had said – walked around the bed. She was taller than Zora, long legs, tan skin and hair the color of midnight. She was adjusting the straps of her top as she rested a hand on Zora's shoulder and stared at him with emerald eyes.

"Hey, it's alright. I won't hurt you."

_You're not the one I'm worried about,_ Zora wanted to say, but her tongue felt ten times its normal size and she wasn't able to get any words out, just a few pained grunts and snorts.

"It took a while, but Ratchet was able to get you back to normal," Mikaela said softly. Her hand hovered over Zora's back. "You're safe. Just….just lean back and take a rest."

Zora's head hit the pillow immediately. Mikaela sat on the edge of the bed, Ratchet poised beside her. With each step, the metal bedframe rattled, and Zora pulled the blood-stained blanket even tighter around her.

She felt like a sick little girl, laying her. Her mouth felt like sandpaper, and her head lolled back and forth as she looked around the room, spotting Mikaela.

"Water."

Mikaela was gone, and then back in a flash with a water bottle. She handed it to Zora, and when Zora's fingers refused to cooperate, she lifted it gently to the redheads lips.

Zora sipped it sluggishly, the endorphin seeming to rob her of the ability to do anything quickly. Her mind felt slothful and she desperately wanted to get up, to walk around….but she just couldn't….

"Where's Drake?" She was able to ask some time later, when Mikaela was through putting the cap on the water bottle.

"He's safe," she whispered.

"I want to see him."

"You will soon," Ratchet said. "You're in no condi –"

_"I want to see him."_

The words came out weaker than Zora had anticipated, just a little croak. But it was enough to let Ratchet know that she was serious.

"He's in a meeting with Major Lennox. I'm sorry."

Zora didn't know who Lennox was, didn't care, as long as Drake hurried over soon. She didn't know how much more time she could bear lying her in her piss-stained sheets, being spoon fed by some random, beautiful girl.

"Shit…." Zora hissed, draping a sweaty hand across her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her tongue to keep from cursing again.

"You're going to be alright," Mikaela assured her.

"That's what they all say," Zora replied. She let her arm dangle over the side of the bed. "That's…what they all say. And you know what? Sometimes I find it hard to believe them."

"If you need to rest," the alien told her. "We aren't going to bother you. Right, Mikaela?"

"Right. Sleep."

Zora kept her eyes shut. It was if someone had pumped her full of endorphin all over again, her nerves relaxing, her mouth feeling parched but somewhat satisfied.

But she was alive. And that was all that mattered.

A few minutes – or hours, she wasn't sure – the doors opened. She felt Mikaela's weight leave the bed, replaced by a much heavier mass. It was Drake, leaning over to peer down at her. His black hair was matted, as if he had just got back from running a marathon, and he was panting heavily.

"Stupid meeting took all day."

Zora cracked a smile and felt Drake's arm around her, his touch timid, as if she were so fragile that she would break at the slightest touch. Zora reached up with shaking fingers and hugged him back, and then, out of sheer devotion, kissed him on the cheek.

God, how she had missed him.

"I thought you had died, Z," Drake said, wiping away a few stray tears. Zora saw Mikaela move to make a gesture, and the falter, stepping back as to give them both some space. She disappeared behind Ratchet's leg a moment later.

"Well, you were mistaken."

Drake gave a throaty chuckle, and then looked up at Ratchet. He leaned over, his lips barely grazing Zora's ear, saying, "I think you owe someone an apology."

His tone was joking, and Zora tried her best not to laugh. She said, "Alright, alright. Drake, you are absolutely the most intelligent, affectionate, _crazy_–"

"– I wasn't looking for praise, but I'll take it–"

"Stuck up little know it all who just this _once_ happened to be right."

"There you go," Drake said, grinning. "I know you'd warm up to me someday."

And then, silence. The smell of the sick hung in the air, Ratchet in the corner, muttering into his internal communications, Mikaela finally showing herself and sitting on the edge of the bed, next to Drake. She flipped her black hair away and said, "You're going to be bed-ridden for quite some time."

"Quite some time my ass," Zora grunted, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She pushed the IV machine to the side, checking the rest of her body for any more needles. Mikaela gripped her arm to steady her when she stumbled.

She looked down at the gown she was wearing and crinkled her nose in disgust. It was pink, and embroidered with flowers.

"What am I? Four years old?" Zora touched the hemline of the gown. "I'd rather be naked than…."

"Here, I'll got get you some of my clothes. I bet they'll fit you," Mikaela said to her, easing her back down onto the bed and next to a worried Drake, whose own fingers were inches from the small of Zora's back. She batted them away.

"What?" He asked softly.

"Just….don't touch me there, alright. It still hurts."

"Was it bad?"

"What?"

"Was it worse than I thought?"

Zora stared at her friend through heavy eyelids. "Um…almost punctured a lung. And a spine. If that's not bad to you, then I don't know what is."

Zora immediately felt bad. The guilt that flooded Drake's face was impossible to ignore, a wave of shame and embarrassment and….something else.

He wrapped an arm around Zora's shoulder and buried his head in her hair, breathing deeply.

"Why do you ask?" She murmured.

"I….I was about….never mind," he said, shaking his head. "It's not important."

Mikaela returned, and when she did, she was holding a red tank top and some white pants, along with a few others items. She tossed them to Zora and then gesturing for Drake to turn his back.

Drake looked disappointed, but obliged.

"This is all I could salvage. The other looked like they wouldn't fit….as for shoes…." Mikaela tapped her chin as Zora pulled on the pants and worked on the shirt. When she got it on, she said, "Here, just, come with me…If you can walk."

Zora, her average determination setting in at Mikaela's words, gripped Drake's shoulder and used it for support, hoisting herself up.

"Can I look now?" Drake called.

"Just a second," Mikaela replied. Zora stumbled, loosing her hold on Drake, and fell forward. Mikaela grabbed her before she could hit the ground.

"Damn….I feel handicapped," Zora said through gritted teeth. "Drake? A little help, man."

Drake turned and let her drape an arm over her shoulder.

"While we're going, I'll introduce you to everyone else. Optimus, Arcee, Bumblebee. Oh, you'll love Bumblebee….he's like a little kid," Mikaela said happily, and next to Zora, Drake made a noise in the back of his throat.

In the corner, Ratchet cleared his throat. Zora met his blue eyes and saw them swimming with worry, sadness, and fury.

He said, "That may have to wait."

* * *

><p>It had been a massacre.<p>

Well, that was the only way Optimus Prime could describe the human bodies scattered across the street, mutilated, broken apart. Fresh smoke hung in the air, an eerie feeling settling around him and his soldiers. Each human had been brutally torn apart, heads cut off, stomachs torn open, throats slit. Blood stained the windows of cars and shops, it trickling down the sidewalk.

The plague had done this. The bugs, the Decepticon insects had laid waste to the human community before N.E.S.T could even arrive. It showed how much damage they could do, far more than Optimus had ever thought possible.

He walked down the empty streets of Orlando, Florida, gun drawn, sweeping in back and forth, looking for any signs of danger. Lennox followed Optimus on foot, military vehicles rolling in behind him. The look on his face was a mix between disbelief and horror as he surveyed the grotesque mess in front of him.

"This is worse than I though," Lennox breathed, resting his gun on his shoulder.

"I agree, Major," Prime thundered, then, his voice quavered "I never though…..I never though Megatron would go this far."

"Well, apparently he has," Lennox said, "And a plague? What, is he trying to kill us off the old fashioned way?"

"There has to be a reason for his…destruction. Megatron would never make a move as blind as this one. I've seen these bug before, on Cybertron."

"So…..you should know how to stop them…" Lennox said slowly. "Right?"

Prime sighed, stepping forward, Lennox's frame temporarily concealed by the grey smoke. "Sadly….no. They were destroyed along with out planet before any of the medics could come up with a cure."

"Shit. Then we are screwed. If your race can't find a cure, than the our race can't find a cure. Simple as that." Lennox stood beside Prime's leg, gazing up at the Autobot leader. In the eerie glow of a flickering streetlamp, Optimus saw the Majors face pale.

Suddenly, there was a wail. A depressed howl that had Optimus readying his own blaster.

"What the hell…." Lennox breathed, backtracking, gun raised. Through the slowly receding mist, a tall, haggard shape was limping along down the street.

"Oh, God, please!" The man screamed. "God, oh, please, I don't deserve to die! I didn't do anything-"

The man never got to finish. He coughed. A cough so powerful that it caused him to stumble. Then, he doubled over and coughed again, something wet and slimy flying out of his mouth and smacking the concrete. He fell to his side, choking, trying to call for help.

By this time, the other soldiers – human and Cybertronian – had noticed the commotion. Military vehicles back away as the man kept screaming, something large working its way out from under his shirt. Blood pooled around him, the florescent light of the streetlamp making the strange human liquid look black.

Since being on Earth, Optimus Prime had never seen anything so sickening.

The bug crawled its way out of the human, who Optimus, for his own sake as well as the humans, hoped was already dead. The bug spread its blue veined wings, and leapt into the air.

A shot rang out. The bug's face was blown apart before it hit the ground, legs twitching. Optimus looked down at Lennox, who had his gun cocked and ready for another shot.

"Thank you, Major." Optimus said softly.

"No problem."

More moans, and now, the N.E.S.T troops began to back away slowly. Prime felt Ironhide tense up beside him, cannons whirling. The sounds even made Prime's trigger-happy weapons specialist nervous.

Just then, a shape emerged, running, flat out, arms pumping. Optimus barely had time to identify the soldier as he shouted "Bugs! Hundreds of them! Coming in fast!"

Immediately, Ironhide readied his cannons, and Optimus crouched low in a defensive position. He could here them, sharp mandibles clicking, feet scurrying across the asphalt. They were ready to feed.

And Optimus _wouldn't_ let them.


	10. Fight

**Don't own it. **

**I know, I update fast. This is how the story is going to be, anyway, with only a couple of days in between chapter. I have my exams next week, so...you know, studying. Who knows, this story might be over by the end of summer. Anyway, for some reason I feel like i annoy people when I update fast...hm...I guess I just have a lot of free time on my hands. So this special, action packed chapter, and i hope the action scene doesn't suck too bad.**

**Read and review, please!  
><strong>

* * *

><p>The screaming was as loud as the gunshots. It pierced through Prime's audio receptors, causing them to ring. Optimus was too engaged in the battle to even think about muting them.<p>

Out of the corner of his optic, Optimus saw a human, one of the few remaining humans in the town, running. A bug the size of a Prime's own foot raced after him, long, flexible tongue shooting out to wrap around his waist. The human disappeared into the bug's mouth, screaming, sobbing.

Another one, a sickly pale human female, was lifted into the air by a flying bug and devoured in seconds.

So far, none of the humans had noticed the gigantic robot thundering down the street. All eyes were focused on the bugs that flooded the street. A few bugs had gone into a nearby hospital, one being so big that it blocked the doorway. Some had managed to get in.

Optimus slid across the concrete, kicking away cars like they were nothing. A bug was on him in seconds, its tongue gliding across his neck. Optimus grabbed the tongue, crushing it, then, he stuck his blaster right in the bugs demonic, red eye.

_BLAM!_

The bug shuddered, but did not die. Optimus gave a fairly impressive snarl, sticking the blaster into the gaping hole.

With one simple motion, Optimus caused the bugs head to finally explode. Sticky, slimy bug juice oozed down Prime's armor, and he shook it off, disgusted. He ran, leaping through searching mandibles and flailing legs.

On to the next one. This one was huge. Larger than any he had ever seen before. Its clicking mandibles were inches from his face when Optimus managed to stab it with his sword. He thrust his blaster through the open wound, fired, and skipped back as bug guts rained down.

Optimus was learning as he went along. The bugs had a variety of weak spots, the most effective one being the place where its chin would have been. They weren't stupid, though, they were actually quite intelligent. They picked out their prey, and pursued it. There was no hiding that the bugs had been built by Cybertronians.

Already, the bugs had devoured many of the helpless citizens. Optimus saw Epps blasting away at the back of a bug, not slowing it down one bit. Then, the bug spun, lashed out, and Epps retreated.

Snarling, Optimus crouched low as the next bug came towards him, mandibles clicking menacingly. He slammed his sword in its eyes, and then stuck his blaster through the hole. It exploded, and Optimus skipped back.

Suddenly, Optimus saw Ironhide, cannons forgotten, smashing a bug with his fist. Smashing and smashing, until the bug was reduced to a pile of green goo.

"Ironhide! Shoot them in the head!" Optimus bellowed. Some of the human soldiers overheard, and heeded Prime's advice.

"Trying!" Ironhide responded, cannons raised.

The bugs were resilient. Only a few remained, but they kept fighting. The humans could go up against them one on one, unlike they could with a Decepticon, so that gave them the advantage. However, they were quicker than the humans, and backed up with the intelligence and intellect of a Cybertronian.

Ironhide went down, long, black tongues hooked around his armor. He was shouting for help. Lennox got there before Optimus could even move, blasting the bugs into oblivion.

Ironhide stood, backing away again. If the bugs caught Ironhide, then the battle was pretty much over.

Optimus raced, grabbing Ironhide and yanking him to temporary safety behind a large building.

_CRASH!_

A bug slammed into the ground beside them, and Optimus silenced it with one shot.

Ironhide was on his knee plates, cannons raised in a defensive position. Then, he glanced down. Optimus followed his gaze and saw that Lennox had followed them, also on his knees, breathing labored.

"So, how the frag are were going to get out of this?" Ironhide asked.

A pair of optics, and one pair of organic optics, turned to look at Optimus. The Autobot leader gazed out at the massacre before him, plans whirling through his processor. He didn't know if the bugs had been programmed to perform different task, or if they were just here to kill. If so, then destroying them all would be the only logical course of action. There was no negotiating with them, no taking them hostage. No interrogations.

"I have a plan," Lennox wheezed, sweat trickling down the side of his face. "Listen, we won't be able to contact N.E.S.T in time to do an air strike….we have to act quick with the resources we have, or else we'll have more blood on our hands than ever before."

"Your plan, Major?" Optimus asked, already inching his was out of the alley. Ironhide tensed up as a large bug narrowed its demonic red eyes.

"Gas station! No time to explain!" when Optimus or Ironhide moved, Lennox shouted, "Hurry! It will work! I promise!"

Already, Ironhide had transformed down. Optimus followed, wheels screeching across the asphalt which was slick with blood –some human, some insect. He popped open his doors, and Lennox threw himself in.

_"Ironhide," _Optimus said through his internal communications.

_"Hm?"_

_"Can you buy us some time?" _Optimus asked, already disliking the proposition. Ironhide screeched to a halt, sliding to the side so his alt mode faced the surge of oncoming bugs.

_"No problem, Prime." _

The gas station was nestled at the end of the long street, alone. To Prime's amazement, someone was there, parking his motorcycle. At the sigh of the semi bearing down on him, he yelped.

Lennox threw himself out, and Optimus backed up. The human man stared.

"H-hey, man, what are you doing?" He stuttered as Lennox fumbled with the gas pump. He eyed Optimus suspiciously.

Lennox gave the man a brief glance, his hands fumbling with the pump. He finally let it go, smoothing back his hair. "You. Pump the gas. Now."

"B-but there's not a tank to put it in…" the man stammered. He shot Optimus another incredulous look. "Unless…."

Lennox was on the man in seconds, grabbing the front of his shirt. "On the ground," he gasped. "On the ground. All over the place. Pump it!"

The man gulped, skeptical, prying Lennox's fingers away from his shirt. Optimus revved his engine, already on the verge of transforming as he heard the bugs approaching. Sighing deeply, he realized that he had no other choice.

The man's eyes went wide as Optimus transformed into his bipedal mode, a towering creature dozens of feet tall. The human's hands dropped to his sides, and he stared.

"No freaking way. So it is true…."

"Pump. The. Gas," Lennox said. "Ignore. The. Alien. Robot."

The man obeyed, needing no further explanation. As he pumped, gas gushed in irregular spurts onto the concrete.

Optimus thudded a little ways down the street and saw Ironhide driving madly. He grabbed a bug as it neared him, stabbing it, over and over again before blasting it with his blaster.

He had bought Ironhide a few seconds. No more.

Optimus thudded back to the gas station, resting a hand on its roof. Gas covered the ground, the smell overpowering. The human man had gone onto the next gas pump, and was busy pumping more.

"That will be enough," Optimus rumbled. "Thank you."

The man looked up, startled, jaw ajar. He made a sound in the back of his throat, and then nodded, backing away slowly. Optimus stepped into the gas, balancing his hands on the roof to keep himself from slipping. That was the last thing he needed.

"Prime!"

Optimus saw Lennox running out of the gas station store, triumphantly holding a lighter in one hand. He ran right through the gas, oil splashing up and covering his military uniform. Optimus stepped back, shuddering when he felt the sticky oil trickling down the seams of his armor.

He looked back. The bugs were advancing now. Ironhide had pulled off the side, and the bugs bypassed him. They were more focused on Optimus and Lennox now, and their sharp mandibles clicked in anticipation as they neared the gas station.

"Hurry, Major, we don't have much time!" Optimus said through clenched dental plates. He had kept his voice as calm as he could, but inside, he was screaming at Lennox, who was looking reluctantly at the lighter.

Lennox flicked on the lighter. He yelped as Optimus scooped him up into the palm of his hand and began to run, long strides, away from the gas station and away from the bugs.

Optimus had seen the human made films where people outrun explosions. Both he and Ratchet agreed that it was nonsense, for even a Cybertronian could not outrun, or outdrive a fireball. However, their was standing in the middle of it, or standing away from it. The explosion wouldn't happen immediately, so that gave Lennox and Optimus a pretty good advantage. Plus, the bulk of all the bugs might shield them a little. If the bugs were smart enough to figure out the trick, then all was lost.

Lennox spun in the palm of Prime's hand and screamed at the human man, cowering in fear in the gas station. "_Run_, man, ruuunnn!"

The human glance back at Optimus, eyes still wide, as he ran. The bugs were at the gas station before the human could even reach he road, long legs slipping across the gas. Optimus watched, horrified, as a long, black tongue reached out and wrapped around the human's waist. In seconds, he had been devoured; the sound like someone putting chicken bones in a blender.

"Lennox…." Optimus pressed as Lennox stared at bug who had devoured the poor human.

"Right. Get ready."

Lennox flung lighter.

_Whoooosssh!_

It wasn't a military-grade explosion, like the ones in Egypt. But it sure was a fireball. Optimus fell to his knee plates, letting Lennox hit the ground before he covered him completely with his large, metal hands. The fire licked across his armor, the paint practically melting off. There was a sharp pain, and Optimus cried out. Even though they weren't directly at the gas station, Prime could still smell oil burning. Luckily, most of the bugs had shielded them from the worst of it.

Speaking of the bugs, a majority of them had evaporated on the spot. Unlike Optimus, they didn't have any armor, making them far more susceptible to heat.

A few bugs remained, on their backs, legs kicking madly at the air. Some lay dead, mutilated pieces of flesh and wire.

Fire crept down pump hose, down to meet the heavy gas vapor in the massive underground tank.

_Ka-BOOM!_

Pumps, concrete, bugs, and the rest of the gas station exploded in a fireball that made the first look like nothing.

Optimus felt bug guts rain down, hitting his smoking armor. He struggled to get up, wincing, pained. His processors screamed that he was damaged. Lennox crawled out from under Prime's hand, on his hands and knees, coughing. He looked up at Optimus, and nodded.

The lead bug, a huge moth, with teeth like a shark, lay on his back, still alive. Its wings had been blown completely off, but it was still determined, even though it could barely move. Optimus saw Ironhide approach it, cannons raised, the most intimidating and menacing look on his facial plates. He knelt down and jabbed his cannons against its eyes and snarled.

"When you get to the pit, tell The Fallen that Ironhide 'hi!" He shot it twice, and its head exploded.


	11. Burn

"Not one of your better moves, you three," Ratchet grumbled, motioning to where Ironhide, Optimus, and Lennox were sitting, Lennox in the palm of Ironhide's hand. "You could have….you could have gotten everybody either injured, or worse, killed."

"But they stopped the bugs, didn't they?" Zora said incredulously. She looked up at Optimus. Pretty much all of the paint on him was gone, replaced by a burnt covering that Zora was sure hurt like hell. Ironhide looked better, since he hadn't been caught in the blast. William Lennox, whom Zora had met the day before, was fine, besides a few scratches, and what would soon be bruises.

"These bugs are deadly. They almost managed to offline Ironhide. There's no telling what else they can do." Optimus tried to stand, but was forced back down by Ratchet, who mumbled something to Prime in there native language.

"Then we slap some grenades on them, and blast them sky high! Simple….right?" Zora said. "I mean, there bugs. They can't be _that_ smart."

"That is where you are wrong, Miss Parker," Optimus looked down at the human, who shifted uncomfortably. "From personal experience, I must say that these creatures are far more intelligent that your average organic insect."

"So they're smart bugs?" Zora cocked an eyebrow. "Wait….are they the same bugs that carry the plague?"

Ratchet answered for Ironhide. "Yes."

"That makes them ten times more dangerous." Ironhide grumbled, giving Zora a not-so-nice look before getting to his feet. Ratchet nodded for him to go, and he left, taking Lennox with him.

"What's his problem?" Zora asked, frowning.

"Ironhide is upset that he didn't get to play hero," Ratchet said, back turned. "You know why we call Ironhide trigger-happy? He has an unhealthy obsession for explosives. He was outsmarted by a human in the instance of his own profession."

"Dude. Talk about egotistical." Zora said.

Ratchet stepped over Zora, placing a hand on Optimus' shoulder. When he pulled away, it was black with ash. Optimus gritted his dental plates, groaning.

"You need to take it easy, Prime," Ratchet said. "You're lucky the explosion didn't cause any _major_ internal damage."

Optimus sank back, visibly disappointed. He glanced at Zora, who waved nervously. She still hadn't gotten used to the towering creature, despite his gentleness. She had met Bumblebee, whom she had put on her top ten lists of favorite aliens robots. He was a cute bot,' peppy and funny in his own way. No wonder Sam considered him a brother.

Optimus, on the other hand, still made her edgy. Still put a fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach. The way he acted, the way he spoke. She _guessed _she was edgy. Maybe it was something else. Something she hadn't realized. The word, though, slipped from her mind as soon as she had grasped the concept.

"So, what to do, what to do?" Zora murmured, biting her lip and pacing. She leaned against Optimus' leg, resting her head against a patch of deep blue armor. It had managed to survive the blast, and Zora was glad at this moment because it saved her the trouble of having to wash soot and ash out of her hair. That and the fact that it was the only recognizable part of his burned body.

"Does it hurt?" She whispered, peering up at Optimus' face. The Autobot leader looked down at her, optics full of sorrow.

"Physically, yes. Not that I haven't endured worse," Optimus hissed as Ratchet pulled at a wire. "The pain of having lost so many humans during the battle hurts more than anything else."

"You did your best, Prime," Ratchet said. "This whole thing….is new. New to us, new to the humans."

"Hey, look. I haven't known you guys for very long. But now I understand that the world needs a hero," she patted Optimus' leg, grimacing when it came away covered in ash. "And if anything, I'm glad those hero's are the Autobots."

* * *

><p>Sam had left some time ago with Bumblebee, claiming that he wanted to go to town to see the sights. Zora was more than glad to go with him, and, of course, bring Mikaela and Drake along. She knew the sights more than anyone since this was really part of her hometown.<p>

Now, she sat inside Bumblebee's alt mode, the young scout driving slow down the street. The town was a bustle of activity, everyone seeming to be out and about like never before. Zora gulped. It was her first time outside the base, out in the normal world, where giant alien robots were just a rumor, and for some, a hoax. She wondered if the pedestrians could sense Bumblebee or something, for they kept shooting the Camaro strange looks.

There was that, and the fact that it was almost impossible to miss a yellow Camaro driving down a street in Florida.

"Shopping?" Mikaela said as they approached the mall. Both Sam, who clutched the steering wheel fiercely and was smiling at anyone who looked at him, and Drake groaned loudly. Mikaela lightly smacked Sam on the shoulder.

"Hey, lighten up," she said, "I was directing the question towards Zora. You guys can go….do some guy stuff or whatever guys do."

Drake rolled his eyes. "You mean, like carry you're bags?"

"Is that an offer? Oh, thanks Drake!" Zora said, smiling and laughing. Drake groaned again.

"Sam, help me out here."

"Nope. You're on your own." Sam kept his eyes firmly planted on the road.

A small, metallic chuckle sounded. Zora and Drake looked around for the source of the sound, only to see Mikaela and Sam staring at them, trying not to laugh.

"It's just Bee. Jeez, you don't have to freak." Mikaela shoved a lock of dark hair out of her eyes, drumming her fingers against the small purse in her lap.

"We just have to hope that the cons don't show. Either that or the stupid plague," Sam grumbled. "Although, we _are_ like alien-magnets."

Zora huffed and leaned back. Bumblebee sure did know how to make a human feel at home. Although, anyone would be able to tell that this wasn't a normal car, or even a semi-normal car. It had a sort of aura to it, a mysterious one. Moreover, the seats were way to comfortable and moved whenever you hit a window or a door.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of awkward silence, Bumblebee pulled up to the mall, practically throwing Zora and Mikaela out. A metallic chirp sounded from the dashboard, and Sam and Drake still sat where they were, doors open, bright faces smiling out at the two girls.

Mikaela put her hands on her hips. "What? Not going to come?"

"Well, you see….." Drake began.

"….there's a video game store down the street. Um, so, Bee is going to drive us there." Sam finished. He fiddled with his thumbs nervously. The glare his girlfriend was giving him looked like it could melt ice. It didn't help that Drake was lounging in the back, looking totally oblivious.

Bumblebee chirped madly, and in her mind, Zora translated it to mean something like _"Hell, no."_

"Pleassseee…." Drake and Sam said simultaneously. Zora looked around. People were giving them strange looks, as if it was abnormal to see three teenagers talking to a hot yellow Camaro. Zora elbowed Mikaela in the ribs.

"Just leave it. People are staring."

"Bu-

"_Leave_ it."

Mikaela shrugged and sighed. "Alright, boys, I guess we'll have to carry our own bags. Such a shame."

Drake snorted. "Yeah, yeah, such a shame. _Not_. Now drive, Bumblebee, drive!"

As the doors slammed shut, Bumblebee chirped excitedly and rolled forward. Zora and Mikaela backed away as the vehicle sped away, taking the two boys with them. Zora rolled her eyes.

"He's such a sweet boyfriend. You sure did get a good one," she murmured to Mikaela.

"The best."

* * *

><p>Dex was alive. However, Dex was pissed. Oh so pissed.<p>

Why? Because the bugs had failed to destroy the Autobots. It was a simple task, really, for the bugs were nearly indestructible. However, as he and Barricade watched the fight from a little ways away, he saw that the Autobots had discovered the bugs weak spots easily.

Well, Optimus Prime had discovered them, and then had proceeded to inform the rest of the Autobots, including his weak fleshy friends.

"They've figured it out," Barricade said, his alt form backing up a little. Dex leaned against the door, examining his nails. Which were fake. His whole human shell –which he hated – was fake. A simple disguise.

"Ya' think? Man, I was hoping that at least _one _Autobot would die.

"Look how that turned out," Barricade snarled.

Dex rolled his eyes, patting the front of Barricade's hood. The Decepticon growled and rolled back, headlights blinking on. Dex shielded his eyes as the door popped open.

"In. Now."

"Alright, grumpy. Jeez," Dex grumbled, sliding into the driver's seat. He leaned back as Barricade backed up, pulling onto the main road. He wasn't a particularly gentle driver, not bothering to buckle Dex in. However, Dex didn't care. It wasn't like a car accident would hurt either of them.

"Where are we going?" Dex grumbled.

"Megatron has….requested to see you. He's not happy."

Dex was pretty much fragged, then. Megatron was never in a good mood, and usually, Starscream suffered because of it. It wasn't Dex's problem, though, Starscream didn't know when to keep his mouth shut, so Megatron shut it for him.

Dex was a good Decepticon. Well, good in Decepticon terms. He was their best Pretender (Actually, he was their _only_ pretender, for the wretched bitch Decepticon Alice had been killed a couple of years ago) and a fine warrior. Megatron would be taking risk by disposing of Dex himself, however, Dex didn't think Megatron wouldn't do it. The great Decepticon leader had suffered so heavily after the battle of Egypt that many of the other Decepticons, including Barricade, had come to question his sanity.

It wouldn't be long until Starscream, or even Dex himself, pushed Megatron too far. Probably. It seemed like the most plausible thing, since Megatron was already losing his mind.

Something after the Battle of Egypt had destroyed a part of his sanity, and no one was sure he would ever get it back.

Too late, Dex thought. Too late to do anything. Megatron was sure to fade away into insanity, his lust for power being his ultimate downfall.

It made Dex's processors spin. He was probably the only Decepticon who saw the truth. Him and Starscream. But Starscream had his own discernible flaws. Dex had been there when Starscream had led for those painful two years after Megatron was offlined by the wretched Witwicky boy, and that was when he had shown his true colors.

Dex sighed and shook his head. Madness. This whole planet…this whole war and what it stood for…was madness.

And he was the only Decepticon to see and embrace it.


	12. Nemesis

**Hey, I'm back. Just got back from nine days of vacation! So, here is the next chapter, and as always, review like crazy. It will make me happy.**

**I don't own it.**

* * *

><p>It was an odd thing for Dex, really. He had always thought Barricade to be huge in size. However, compared to Megatron, he was nothing. A piece on the chessboard, ready to be played and sacrificed for others.<p>

Dex hated Megatron, or really, he loathed his motives. He loathed the idea of a plague bent on terminating the humans instead of the Autobot's, a plague made to wipe out the planet until there was nothing left but the Cybertronians. Then, the final battle would begin, and Optimus Prime would fall, and the Decepticons would triumph because the Autobots would have nothing left to fight for. No humans to back them up. Simple, really, if you don't count the casualties along the way.

Dex shifted uncomfortable as the Decepticon leader analyzed him. His metal feet scraped against the stony surface of the cave floor, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. Dex wanted to cover his ears, but knew that by doing so, he was showing signs of weakness.

"Dexter, Dexter," Megatron drawled, "You're even worse than Starscream."

In the background, Dex heard a low snicker.

"E-excuse me, sire, but why exactly have you summoned me?" Dex gulped, stepping back and finding himself pressed against Barricade's hard leg. The Decepticon twitched the appendage, sending Dex sprawling forward on the stone floor. He looked up into the demonic red eyes of the Decepticon leader, and for what seemed like the thousandth time, wondered what it would be like if he had chosen to be an Autobot.

Probably a lot better than this, Dex thought.

Megatron tilted his head, eyes zeroing in on Dex.

"You _failed, _Dexter. Or should I say, _Switchblade._"

Dex cringed at the use of his Cybertronian name. Megatron knew how and when to get on his nerves.

"Sire, please, the task _was _completed. Barricade and I destroyed the human town, and managed to infect a vast majority of the humans."

Megatron's optics narrowed before he sunk back into his towering throne. "Yet, you do not present the body of Optimus Prime before me?"

Dex's mouth dropped open.

"H-how was I supposed to know….the plague doesn't infect Cybertronians, my liege; there was no way to take Optimus out without going one on one." Dex stammered. He felt sick. He was on the verge of groveling, and he was sure that Megatron knew it, too.

"Really? And you are sure about that?"

"That's what Scalpel said. He's a doctor, so I listen to him," Dex was about to add another part, but bit his tongue. There was no use in pissing Megatron off even further. It just meant more punishment. More pain and suffering for him.

"Hm," Megatron rapped his fingers against his throne.

Something moved in the corner, distracting Dex for a moment. It was something large, but not as large as Megatron himself. It emerged from the shadows, slithering across the floor, its mandibles clicking. In the eerie glow of the lights, Dex saw its glittering, red eyes focusing on Megatron.

"Another pet, I take it?" Dex muttered, raising his eyebrows. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as the bug slithered around Megatron's leg, coming to rest on a heavily armored knee. Dex watch as long, metal fingers began to stroke the gigantic worm, each stroke light and gentle. Dex found it hard to believe that Megatron's hands were capable of such tenderness.

Dex cringed as Megatron snarled, letting his pet slide back onto the floor. It was on Dex in seconds, mandibles stopping inches from his face. Black liquid trickled from the corners of its slimy mouth.

Dex gulped and got back to the matter at hand because Megatron was starting to look impatient. "Sire, please, forgive me. I will do better next time."

"There might not _be _a next time," Megatron snarled. "Hard times have come upon us, Dexter, and failure is not acceptable. We cannot allow the Autobots to….get the _upper hand_."

"They might have already," Dex said quietly, so Megatron would not hear. He looked up as Megatron began to speak, sliding off his massive throne. Dex twisted his head and saw that Barricade had long abandoned him, leaving him alone with the tyrant. "Look, sire, we aren't going to be able to do anything…."

"….Unless our wonderful scientist invent a new plague? I am already ahead of you, _Switchblade_," Megatron rasped, trailing off, as if his processors were somewhere else. "Did you think that we _wouldn't _come up with a way to infect our dear Autobots? _However, _we do need a test subject." Then, he got a particular gleam in his optic, one Dex often saw on Starscream when he came up with a horrible, despicable plan. Megatron gestured to his pet, as if he were presenting someone with a gift or a prize.

"No," Dex croaked.

"Do not fear, it will be a _small _sacrifice. And I'm _sure _my pet will be gentle." Megatron's tone was sickeningly sweet, and Dex hated it. Hated it a lot. Hated the way he smirked, the way he talked, the way he made you feel so vulnerable. For a second, Dex was able to feel what Starscream felt all the time.

"No."

Then, Megatron motioned with his hand towards the bug, the Cybertronian-infecting bug, and Dexter's contented little universe began to shatter like broken glass.

The bug was on him in seconds, clamping down on his shoulder. Long, sharp teeth slid through a soft, human shell before scraping across metal a metal surface. Dex gasped as he felt the teeth slide effortlessly through his armor, cutting through wires, sending a fresh wave of agony down his arm.

"You've failed me one to many times, Switchblade."

Dex screamed. A wail so loud that it echoed off the dark, damp walls.

Megatron grinned. "This should be entertaining."

* * *

><p>Zora Parker was dreaming, and she knew it. She knew because she was lying out in a barren desert, on her side, tongue dry and eyes heavy, with no idea how she had gotten there.<p>

Wait, you couldn't feel in a dream, could you? Then how come she felt her throat and tongue and mouth dry. How come she felt the sand and the heat.

It felt so _real. _Like she was actually there, feeling the hot air brush across her skin, feeling the sand in between her fingers and toes. Her _bare _toes, actually, for she was wearing no shoes. Just her nightshirt and a pair of shorts courtesy of Mikaela Banes.

She sat up and surveyed the land. She was in a flat terrain that extended for miles and miles. Maybe forever. The only light came from a blistering sun overhead, one that hurt Zora's eyes. Plants actually littered the ground, light colored things that were far from dead. The had withered under the scorching sun, probably.

Thundering feet had Zora on her own feet. She stumbled as she nearly tripped over a rock. A large, dry plant slapped her bare legs. She ran as fast as she could, not stopping, astounded when her lungs did not ache for air, and her legs did not tire. Her feet, however, registered the pain. Sharp rocks stabbed into the soles of her feet, and more than once she stubbed her toe. The pain was horrid, and she did her best to block it off, to shut it out, to focus on the task at hand. Getting away from whatever creature was trying to confront her.

Suddenly, the noise got louder. In a state of blind panic, she spun, grabbed a sharp rock, and hurled it backwards, hoping to at least startle whatever it was. All she heard was a dull thud as the rock hit the sand.

_"What is going on?"_ She shouted. The steps were getting louder, heavier. Suddenly, a shadow swept across the ground, and Zora found herself staring up at the strangest alien robot yet. This one was tall, almost as tall as Optimus himself, but thin and dark. It stood blocking the sun, shielding Zora's eyes from its harsh glare. She couldn't make out its eye color, for the thing was just a silhouette.

_"Nemesis," _It said, its voice like a booming megaphone. _"It's been a while."_

Run, or hide, run, or hide. Zora played her options over in her head. She sunk too her knees. Whatever the creature was, it hadn't tried to kill her yet.

_"I don't know anyone named Nemesis."_

The creature acted like it hadn't heard her. It stepped forward so that its brown foot was inches away from Zora.

_"We have been watching you, Nemesis, and we have decided. You are the one."_

_"The one what?"_

_"The boy fulfilled his destiny, now you must fulfill yours."_

Zora gulped, her mouth dry. It was weird that they called her Nemesis…obviously, that was not her name. The bot', or con', or whatever it was, must have had the wrong girl. Although there weren't that many girls around named Nemesis.

Zora looked up at the Cybertronian, saw its calm, metal face. Certainly not one you would find on a Decepticon. It reminded her of a certain Autobot she had spent most of her time with lately. She couldn't help the small smile that crept over her features.

Then, she looked up, brows furrowing. _"Look, I don't want to be involved in some alien civil war. Count me out, man."_

_"The choice is not yours to make."_

_"Well, I don't want to be chosen!" _Zora raised her hand and watched as sand ran in between her fingers, dropping onto the ground, sending up a small cloud of dust. _"I just want to be normal."_

The Cybertronian didn't respond.

_"Please," _Zora begged.

_"You will be saving many lives in the future, Nemesis, consider it an honor."_

Zora, breathless, sweat trickling down her forehead, tried to stand. Her knees were wobbly, and she almost fell back down.

_"I…I..don't want people to die. I don't want to die, either. But if it means saving lives…." _

_"You understand?" _The creature questioned, something else hidden beneath its tone.

_"I guess…I mean, I don't want this."_

_"You will understand in time, child."_

Zora was actually grateful that it had called her child instead of Nemesis. The name sent a shiver down her spine.

Nemesis.

She though the name once, and woke up, the vision of the Cybertronian fresh in her mind. She sat up, panting, and then let her head fall back and hit the pillow. Mikaela's soft breathing was the only other sound in the room, and Zora was glad for some peace and quiet.

She would talk to Optimus about it tomorrow. She enjoyed him thoroughly, and seemed too always anticipate a conversation with him. She would have to ask him about the name, to, ask him about its significance. Ask him why it made her so edgy and a little frightened.

In the background, Zora head a soft chuckle.

She ignored it and went back to sleep.


	13. Attraction

Zora didn't tell Optimus about the dream. She supposed he had a lot on his mind and all, with there being more and more Decepticon attacks. He was cooped up at government meeting all the time, and Zora wondered how he managed to keep his head.

That stupid name, though, kept rattling around in Zora's own head. Nemesis. Why had the huge creature called her that as if she were some old friend?

Zora lay on her bed, alone, thankful for the silence. She thought about her friends at school, how she had gone most of the summer without seeing them because she was stuck working for Dexter, who had turned out to be an alien in disguise. Zora knew that if she saw any of her other friends again, they would notice the change immediately. She was quieter, and kept to herself a lot more.

As she rolled over on her side, the heavy thudding of feet could be heard from outside. She shut her eyes and sighed.

The door opened, light spilling into the room. Zora didn't want to see who it was, however, she _knew _who it was.

A warm hand touched her cheek, and Zora finally found the strength to look up. She was staring into bright blue eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light, tan skin, and black hair.

"Wow," Zora said, yawning. "You do look like him. Or, um, yourself."

"You do not … like my holoform?"

"Did I say that?" Zora bit her lip when the words came out harsher than she had intended. Optimus' eyes softened when she shot him an apologetic glance, rolling over and sitting on her knees. "I mean, you look fine."

He wasn't just fine, he was sexy as hell. Zora decided not to mention that, though.

"Mikaela has told me that you are not feeling well? Is there anything I can do?"

Well, he could fix everything. Make it where Zora was back at home, with Drake as her boyfriend, with Dex living on a different continent. No robots. No plague. Nothing.

Zora sighed to herself. Optimus Prime was not God.

"No," Zora said simply. "No, there is not."

Prime's blue eyes narrowed, but he did not speak any further. Zora knew that he knew she was lying. She could see it written all over his fine features.

"You're done with all the government mumbo-jumbo today?" Zora said, her own eyes studying his suddenly tired looking expression. He was worn around the edges. Some rest would fix that right up.

"I have it to look forward to tomorrow," Optimus ran a finger across the bed sheets, suddenly a lot closer to Zora. "Sadly, dealing with stress has never been one of my strongpoints."

"At least you admit it." Zora pointed out. Although, Optimus was almost always modest. Another thing she liked about him.

Optimus chuckled. Even in his holoform, it was deep, causing Zora's very own bones to vibrate. It was a pleasant sound.

Zora reached out and touched his wrist gently. Felt the pulse, but knew that it was fake. Ratchet had explained the idea of a holoform to her, leaving her in even more awe of their species.

"Is there anything that you would like to talk about?" Prime's eyes still shined, and Zora felt the urge to turn away, for she was already getting lost in them.

"I'm just worried about my parents. Worried about my friends," Zora paused and thought. "Drake, especially."

"Mr. Talent is in good hands, Zora." Optimus assured her. He slid up closer to her and touched her hand lightly. Zora flinched away from the touch. She didn't know why, and as she glanced at Optimus, she saw that there was a trace of hurt on his tired face.

"Zora, are you afraid of me?"

He asked it simply. Just like that. Zora didn't answer, didn't want to.

"You know that I would _never_ hurt you."

"I know. But…I mean….I don't know. You're just so…I don't know why I feel nervous around you."

"So it is nerves, and not terror?" Optimus inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Look, I don't want o make you feel bad. I have heard….people say that the Autobot's are monsters. I'm not one of those people, I never would be, to say such a thing. But I feel like just by being scared, I'm turning into one of them."

Optimus didn't answer for a moment. He looked like he was contemplating over what to say, and Zora sighed.

"I'm sorry." He finally said, as if it were his fault.

It wasn't.

"It's not your fault, Optimus. It's just me being an asshole," Without thinking, Zora opened her arms. "We cool, man? Still friends?"

Optimus was hesitant for a moment, but finally he allowed Zora to wrap her arms around him. She held him, and he held her. She felt the warmth from his body, and she soaked it in before, awkwardly, they untangled, and Optimus stared at her, mouth pulled into a tight line. Maybe he wasn't used to such contact. Suddenly, Zora began to regret hugging him. Maybe he would take it the wrong way.

Optimus stood, but Zora remained seated on her bed.

"Thanks' for coming to talk," Zora said feverishly, feeling like she had just gotten back from speaking with a therapist. "I appreciate it."

"Your welcome, Zora," Optimus said lightly. As he walked to the door, he glanced back, strands of black hair drifting across his face. Zora could have sworn that she saw a flash of red on his cheeks. She barely caught the last words as he walked out the door and deactivated his holoform.

"Oh, by the way, you are certainly _not _an 'asshole'"

* * *

><p>Drake's fingers had begun to sweat under the gloves, his fingers hesitantly curling around the handle of a large metal bucket.<p>

A bucket filled with waste. Ratchet had refused to discard it, and since Drake was his good little dog, he had offered. But not out of grace, out of relief. He just needed to get out of that place as soon as possible to….

Drake grunted as he shoved past the med bay doors, back into that horrible hell, the sound of moaning and groaning and cries of pain blending to form an awful chorus. His head was pounding as the smell tore past his nostrils, sending them flaring, a cough itching at the back of his throat.

He dared not let it escape. Once cough would sent the room into chaos. Gulping, he forced it back down and approached Ratchet, shivering as he bypassed the shivering bodies, deftly dodging the pale hands that reached out to touch him, as if he would be the one to rid them of their pain.

He looked up at Ratchet and said, nervously, "It's gone."

"All of it?"

"Yeah," Drake nodded. "The burn room smells like shit. Literally. I barely made it out of there without yacking."

"A small price to pay for fulfilling the needs of others," Ratchet shot Drake a sharp glance, and Drake's hands curled into deadly fist. The medic was always there. Always harping on his because he wasn't some war-hardened warrior who had spent a life of fighting. He despised it, their loathing, their contempt for anyone who wasn't like them.

Drake rolled his eyes and went back to hauling buckets until his arms ached. When he returned, he stopped at the sound of Ratchet, who had his back turned and was mumbling to himself.

"…..biological warfare my aft! This isn't warfare, this is unadulterated _genocide_."

Kudos to Ratchet. Drake found himself nodding his head in agreement, briefly meeting the medic's eye as he moved a few empty buckets to the side. It wasn't like he agreed to the job, he realized. Optimus had practically put him up to it.

To get him away from Zora, he supposed? It wasn't like Drake was some stupid, oblivious human.

Plus, something about the big boss bot irked Drake. He didn't know what exactly, but those looks he gave Drake….sometimes they had almost pushed him over the edge.

"I'm done for the day," Drake said, pushing the last bucket away with his foot. He tore off his gloves and sauntered past Ratchet's leg, towards the door.

"Already?"

Ratchet's tone wasn't curious, but patronizing. As if Drake hadn't done enough already.

"Sorry, but lugging buckets of shit is not how I'm going to spend the rest of my day," Drake reeled back when Ratchet knelt down, face so close that the puffs of air from his intakes blew back his hair. Wiping his eyes, trying to shroud his face of any discomfort, he said, "Y-yeah. I've done my deed. Now you go back to doing yours."

He turned on his heels and walked away, rubbing his arms, feeling the medic's glare even though he couldn't see his face.

The moans of the dying were still in his head, even as he walked quickly away from the medical bay.

Drake showered. Scrubbed his skin raw, until it turned red. He wanted to rid himself of whatever had been floating in the air in that room, get rid of the sweat and dirt and remnants of the dying that lingered on his skin.

He sat in his room, later, running his hands through his hair and toying with his phone, throwing it from hand to hand so to pass the time.

He barely heard Zora come in. He saw the brief flash of light that was abruptly cut off when she shut the door. The room was dim, and Drake could see her dark silhouette leaning against the wall.

"What?"

"Not a very nice greeting."

"Does it have to be nice for you to get the point?" Drake glanced up and saw her approach, taking a seat next to him.

"Oooh….someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. What, do you think I just came to bother you?" Zora poked him playfully.

"Well, I need some company._ Human_ company."

"Are the Autobots not good enough for you?"

Drake raised his hands in a placating gesture, opening his mouth to make some snide remark. Instead, he dropped his hands and lowered his head, saying softly, "You don't get it."

"What don't I get? I went through the same….no, I went through _worse_ than you did."

"That's what I'm getting at," Drake looked up, eyes twinkling. He smoothed back his dark hair and said, "Dex."

"Switchblade."

"What?"

"Optimus told me that his name was….never mind. Go on."

Drake smiled at Zora softly. Their eyes met for a moment, and he saw a flash of sorrow in her dark eyes. Just thinking about what had happened to Dex – the _human _Dex – in the first place was sickening.

Or maybe he had been a robot the entire time Drake and Zora had known him? The whole ordeal was mind boggling, supporting Drake's theory that the alien creatures were not what they seemed.

"I don't like you being around them. After what happened….after you got stabbed….I'm not taking any chances."

"Oh, right, because you're Drake Talent, defender of the weak," Zora said in a mocking tone, rolling her eyes. "I get it. A male's instincts aren't to be overlooked."

"Yeah," Drake blew out a puff of air through his nose and said, "You see where I'm coming from?"

"That whole Dex thing was screwed up. We were in the wrong place at the wrong time," Zora said. "If I hadn't agreed….."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I feel like it is."

Drake looked into her eyes again, saw that they were red, as if she hadn't gotten enough sleep. He reached out, slowly, fingers brushing across her lips.

He felt like a fool. It had taken him this long to realize that she was the perfect girl for him? Prettier than most, but certainly nowhere near Mikaela. As if it mattered to Drake. Pink, full lips, hair more orange than fire and freckles sprinkled across her face that gave her an almost childish quality.

And her brown eyes...they were the best part, so captivating that Drake could just spend an eternity staring into them.

"Listen. We'll get through this, alright? It's only a matter of time before N.E.S.T loses interest in us and we can go home."

Zora laughed, but did not pull away from his touch. As Drake's fingers slowly made their way down, to the back of the neck, she said, "Home? What do we have left at home?"

"Hell if I know."

Zora smiled, and then laughed again, leaning in to rest her forehead against Drake's.

The closeness, the sheer physical contact was maddening. Drake found his hand beginning to tremble, his lips aching for contact….

They got their wish.

It was supposed to be a brief kiss, something to build off of, but Drake kept a firm hold against her neck and jerked her forward so she was on him, fist clenching into his shirt.

This was the closest he had ever been to her. It wasn't at all like he had expected, the feel of her lips caressing his skin, her body unbelievably lithe at the mercy of his hands.

Drake was already beginning to wonder how far they were going to go when he felt it. Through all the haze as she fumbled with his shirt, the sensation of his hands against her bare flesh slowing his mind to a crawl, he felt the uneven skin beneath his palms.

His body went rigid. He felt as if someone had poured cold water against his bones, immobilizing him.

Zora gave a small cry, her hair astray, her head buried against Drake's bare shoulder.

The scar was larger than he had imagined, the jagged line tender under his touch and just as sensitive. Drake pulled his hands away, feeling the splash of tears against his skin.

"_Hey_," he ran his fingers through her hair, gently angling her head so he could look into her chocolate colored and kiss away her tears. "Look at me. _Look at me_."

She shook her head and pulled away.

No. He was losing her.

"_Please_."

She didn't reply. Hesitantly, she got off the bed and adjusted her shirt, tossing Drake his.

"I….I…." Drake stumbled over the words, watching her walk away towards the door, fixing her hair, trying to make herself look presentable, as if she never did. "I love…"

But she was already gone.


	14. Forget

Later, Starscream had to check on Dex.

The medical bay was dark. Everything was dark, except for the ever dimming glow of Dex's optics. Water dripped down from a busted pipe that hung from the ceiling, one of the many dysfunctions of the base. Starscream had almost tripped and offlined himself a few days ago, all in a rush to avoid Megatron's sudden wrath.

Megatron still heard his voice. Still heard the voice of The Fallen even though the old, crazy mech was long dead.

Like that was all Starscream's fault. According to Megatron,_ everything_ was Starscream's fault.

Megatron….he would get what he deserved, one day.

Starscream brushed a few stray cables to the side and softly approached Dex, who was laying on the massive examining table in the center, looking like the Pit. His tail was twisted under him and an expression of sheer anguish had washed over his features. Betrayed, he looked.

Starscream had never liked Dex much. But he, unlike the other Decepticon's, understood one thing. That Megatron was a demented tyrant that lusted for power. He had lost his purpose centuries ago.

But that didn't mean Dex agreed that Starscream should be leader.

Little nuisance, Starscream thought as he stepped closer to Dex, wings twitching. Pinched in between one of his talons was a small cup of energon, so small that Dex would be able to drink it.

This is what being second command was all about, apparently. Feeding some sick, dying pretender and simulating the idea that Starscream actual cared about him.

"Starscream?" Dex moaned. "Is that you?"

"Save your babbling for later, Switchblade," Starscream rolled his optics and bent over, inching the cup of energon closer, so Dex would be able to see it.

"_M…M…egatron_ is letting you…take care…" voice laced with static, Dex raised a trembling hand. His other arm was gone. Ripped off. He took the energon and brought it down so the rim of the cup touched his metallic lips.

"Yes."

Starscream was more focused on something else now. Something that writhed and moved beneath the thin membranes of tubes and wires that made up most of Dex's abdomen.

It pulsated, rhythmic, like drumbeats.

Dex took a long swig of energon, totally oblivious to the horrors occurring in his stomach.

Larvae. Dex was an egg, and the larvae were hatching out of him.

Starscream felt something, like his tanks jerking, and he stumbled away from the table.

_Madness. _This was_ madness._

"_Starscream…don't lea…don't_…" Dex crooned, his voice rising and then falling, each time the static getting worse.

But Starscream was already out of the room.

* * *

><p>Optimus found Zora lying outside the hangar, against the tarmac, Bumblebee hovering over her.<p>

As he approached, he could see the scout's shoulder bouncing as he laughed, the small chirps and whistles drifting through the night air. His door wings twitched as Optimus approached, and he turned around, tilting his head to stare at the larger mech.

"Optimus?" Zora, who was on her back, arms behind her head, smiled. Her red hair was spread around her, and she reached over and patted the side of Bumblebee's leg. "Bumblebee here tells some awesome stories. I never knew that Cybertron was such a vast planet….wish I could have been born there."

Bumblebee chirped a response, and Optimus chuckled. "Indeed," he said. "Bee could spend hours telling you all sorts of stories. But, unfortunately, Ratchet needs him in the med bay."

_"But mommmm!" _the familiar clip played, and Zora laughed aloud as his shoulders sagged, his door wings drooped. He put on a fake pout.

"March, soldier," Optimus said, smiling as Bumblebee stood and stomped away.

Optimus took a seat beside Zora, looking down at her small frame. Eyes gleaming, she hopped up and scooted closer, leaning against his crossed leg. He noticed that her eyes were red and her face was pale, as if she had just encountered a ghost.

Something had happened, and he had sinking feeling that Drake had something to do with it.

"So….where is Cybertron?" She asked.

Optimus peered upward at the sky, optics flashing blue as he searched for the remnants of his home planet.

There it was. Far away, in another galaxy. But still, so close.

"Past Pluto. It took us _decades_ to get here," Optimus' lip plates pulled into a tight line. "But thank Primus we did."

"I don't know what the world would have done without you guys," Zora said, snorting. "Maybe you're just the saviors we need…."

"I wouldn't say saviors. Our war started due to one mech's ignorance and corruption," Optimus shook his head. "It is a shame he cannot see the errors of his ways."

"Megatron? I've heard stories about all he's done and…" Zora shook her head sadly. "Not good. He's just as immoral as some of the people we have on Earth. Just….you know….with different goals."

Optimus nodded in agreement, swiveling his massive head to look down at the human. Her eyes were directed at the stars, darting back and forth between each one, as if expecting to see Cybertron with her own two eyes. But Optimus knew better. It was way to distant, way to destroyed and mangled to be able to see with the naked eye.

"In Megatron's eyes, Cybertron will always be his home," Optimus breathed.

"Home…." Zora shifted uncomfortably.

"You miss your home?"

"My parents. My cat. Yeah, I miss them," Zora nodded. "Hate to leave them out of the loop…especially now, after all that's happened," Zora opened her mouth, and then closed it. Optimus could practically see the question gnawing her, and though he knew what it was, he asked anyways.

"Do you want to go home? Just for a short while?"

"I was just about to ask."

"It's a treat. On me," he reached down and touched the top of her head, so gently, feeling the heat radiating off her body. "Though my position depicts it, I feel that it is not in my place to disconnect you from your family. Though, I must warn you of the dangers."

"I know what they entail."

"You should. You have lived them to the fullest," Optimus murmured. "You are a strong individual, Zora Parker."

Zora smiled, and then reclined back, content and peaceful. Optimus watched the moon begin to reveal itself in the sky, a gigantic, almost ominous orb compared to the ball of light that had been showing before.

Oh, how beautiful this planet was. Entirely worth saving.

"What other stories could you tell me? Did you have lots of friends back at home?" Zora asked, tilting her head. The noises of the bustling base faded into the background, and Optimus closed his eyes, exhaling sharply.

"Oh….sorry. I didn't mean to….I was just curious."

He would rather she wasn't, but Optimus couldn't help that. Curiosity was curiosity, and he knew he was bound to tell her sometime, if not now.

"I had many friends. Especially before I became a Prime," Optimus' eyes flickered down. "Sentinel Prime was my mentor. He taught me….trained me and turned me into what I am now."

"Now that sounds like a cool bot'," Zora said with contentment, grinning to herself. She stretched out, her lissome little body flexing before Optimus' eyes. With a sigh, she settled back down and closed her eyes. "What about…I mean, not to intrude on your personal space or anything, but did Cybertronians ever date?"

"Date?"

"You know…hook up," Zora twisted her fingers together in some sort of paradigm, hooking her index fingers together. Optimus could see the embarrassed flush in her face, her cheeks tinted red, and he smiled. "Like….get together," she shrugged. "It depends on how you look at it."

Optimus glanced up at the stars, her hesitant query finally digging deep into his processors. Yes, many lovers had come to pass in his long life, none of who had managed to appeal to the very center of his spark, to pull out his most inner demons and destroy them on the spot.

But there had been one. He remembered her, an image of her smooth face popping into his processors.

"I had one," he said softy.

"What was her name?"

"Elita," Optimus curled his own fingers together, shoulders bristling. "She was a lovely femme. You and her…you would get along quite well."

"I'm sure she'll find you," Zora peered up at the stars. "No matter how large the galaxy is."

"She's dead."

Zora went rigid. In the sinking light, Optimus saw her dark silhouette sit up.

"Oh…."

"She died shortly after the war started," Optimus' eyes refused to look up. "Due to my own incompetence. I could have saved her, if I had tried, but she was in the hands of Megatron and I was so afraid to…."

A small hand on his leg. Zora was stroking his armor, fingers tracing the flame patterns.

"Megatron threatened me physically. When I didn't give, he threatened to kill her," Optimus' fingers were shaking at the recollection, the screams and sobs of his femme ringing through his head. "Back in the beginning, Megatron and I….we were close. I was still clinging to the hopeless notion that he was still the same mech I knew before, and that he was just….going through hard times."

Zora was silent.

"When I refused a second time, after much begging….he killed her," Optimus fist clenched, sending shivers down his spine. "Dismembered her. Arms first, then legs. He was done before I could reach her. She died in my arms, a ragged mess of energon and missing limbs."

"Oh God…." A hand came up to cover her mouth, and Zora shook her head. "That's horrible."

"That was such a long time ago. I have moved on. The war has taken loved ones away from all of us, and I can only hope that… when this is all over, we will finally have a home to love and care for."

"You will," Zora said, her words full of augur, as if she_ knew_ they would have a home. "I'll make sure."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you want to do this? I can handle it on my own." Zora said softly "Honestly, what do you think my parents are going to say when they see you….I mean us. I mean, I know that N.E.S.T explained everything, but…"<p>

"They will only be seeing my holoform, and nothing more. We will leave the rest of the explanations to N.E.S.T officials," Optimus said, not even giving Zora a glance.

They had pulled up a little ways away from Zora's home, a small house just on the outskirts of the town. They had thought about living in Synapsis, another town a few miles away from the one they currently lived in. Zora wondered if her life would actually be normal if they had taken the offer. She knew that Drake's life wouldn't. He would still be with Dex, living, working. Maybe he would have been killed in Starscream's attack.

Although, it was Zora who had persuaded Drake to get the job and work for Dex, Zora, the one who had agreed to go to Dex's party. Suddenly, the heavy weight of a million faults seemed to rest upon her shoulders, crushing her until there was nothing left but the events of the previous day.

Zora tried to clear her head of the other night, of Drake's casual kisses and touches. It had felt weird. Drake was like a brother to her, and the closeness, the physical contact...it had all been to much.

Zora didn't want to think about it anymore, though, not when Optimus was watching. Their species could practically smell discomfort and about every other emotion. She didn't want Optimus making a comment, then her having another cry-fest with him like she had the other day.

As they stopped, Zora cleared her throat and twisted to look at Optimus, who had let go of the wheel and was leaning back in the seat, looking miserable. Zora could see her house, light spilling from the windows, the garage door closed. Her parents were home, and were about to get the surprise of their lives.

"Is there anything that I should be aware of?" Optimus asked.

"Just don't piss of my dad. He can be cranky at times," Zora said, although she knew that Prime wouldn't have any issues with that. "Very cranky."

* * *

><p>"You came back."<p>

Shock written all over her face, reddish brown hair framing her face, Zora's mother pulled her and Optimus inside, shooting Optimus a sideways glance.

"Yeah, I guess I did," Zora saw her Dad's glare, and quickly said, "I was perfectly safe where I was. I swear."

Another lie.

Zora's mother gripped her daughters arm and led her to the couch, then turned to Optimus and motioned for him to sit. Reluctantly, the Autobot leader sat as Zora's mother stood in front him.

"Now, I don't know who you _are_, and frankly, as long as you're _human_, I don't care."

"Shit," Zora muttered, quiet enough so her mother would not hear.

"The military gave us a call," her father said from his position in his recliner. Her gripped the remote and switched off the television, which had been playing on mute. Zora knew that they were both about to get a verbal smack down, and she was more worried about Optimus than she was herself. "They were concerned about our safety, and mentioned some things that I want _you _to clarify."

"Aliens?" Her mother snapped, mostly at Optimus. "Can you explain that?"

Zora, absently, put a hand on Optimus' shoulder. He didn't flinch away, didn't make a comment. His blue eyes were focused on Zora's mother, whose cheeks were red with anger. She was about to snap.

"Okay, um, thanks for walking me in," Zora whispered in Optimus' ear. "Please. Go."

"Are you sure?" He murmured. "I'll be outside, waiting."

"Yes. _I'm begging_ you."

Optimus stood, slowly, shooting her mother one last apologetic look before making his way to the door, opening it, and stepping outside. In a few moments, the slight rumble of an engine could be heard.

"Who was that? One of your alien friends?" Zora's mother said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah."

"And you're _friends _with that creature?"

"He's not a creature, mom."

Zora's mother narrowed her eyes. "That's what they _want _you to believe."

"It _is _what I believe," Zora said firmly. "Y-You haven't been around them."

"'_Them_' there's more than one?" Zora's mother look appalled, and she looked towards her husband for guidance. The man had barely said a word, and he shrugged, probably not knowing what to make of the whole situation.

Zora clapped her hands together, bringing them down to rest in her lap. "Okay, Mom, can you just….forget about everything."

"How am I supposed to do that? I've finally woken up –finally _been _woken up – and have seen what is really going on in the world. This isn't one of your pranks, Zora Grace Parker, ditching school, sneaking out….that all is nothing compared to this."

Zora looked to her father.

"I'm staying out of this. I don't want anything to do with any alien robots. You can count on that," her father said, turning away.

"Follow Dad's example," Zora said, hopeful. "Forget about it. Pretend that life is normal, that I'm normal, and everything can go back to the way it was."

Zora's mother let out a sigh of defeat. "Alright. But that doesn't mean your not grounded."

"What else did I….oh, right. The party."

"You got it. Underage drinking?" Zora's mother scowled. "I know that you're not that low, but what have we told you about going to those types of parties?"

Zora knew the answer….but decided not to answer


	15. Arrested

**Don't own it. **

* * *

><p>Barricade dropped Dex's dying body off in the <em>outskirts <em>of Synapsis, an old, run down place that did not compliment Synapsis at all. Not that Barricade cared, though, he wasn't about to check Dex into a five star hotel to let him die. No. Not going to happen.

Megatron had insisted that Dex be taken out of the base. Infection was easy, and Megatron wasn't about to have half his army writhing on the ground, coughing up their insides. The vaccine the Decepticon medics and scientist had come up with only worked when the victim was first bitten or impaled. Dex was as good as dead.

Therefore, Barricade had been chosen to dispose of Dex, who was far from saving now. It was simple, really. Find some old, run down building, dump him off, and drive away. One of the easiest missions Barricade had been given in a long time.

"Don't do this, Cade', really," Dex moaned. He lay in the back seat, on his side. Barricade hadn't bothered to buckle him in. No human police could see, anyway.

He drove across the paved roads, old and cracked. The roofs of buildings had caved in; people lived in dirty, dilapidated homes. Only a few shops remained, some open, some closed. Not that Barricade cared.

"This place is sick," Barricade sneered.

"Like me. Luckily, I can be_ saved_!" Dex rasped, clutching his stomach. "When I'm offlining, Cade', are you going to watch me?"

"Yes."

"_No! No, no, no, no, no_!" Dex shrieked, clawing, at the windows, trying to find a switch, something, that would let him out of the hellhole.

"You're not getting out."

Dex let his head hit the leather seat. Defeated, he was. Barricade had won. Megatron had won.

"I've always hated you, you and Megatron," Dex snarled. "I hate the humans even more."

"So I have heard," Barricade thought it was best to ignore Dex. He focused on the winding road ahead. The sun was setting, stars beginning to show themselves. Not one human paid attention to the sleek cop car driving down the dirty street.

"I hate you, I hate you," Dex chanted. "Smart, yet arrogant. All the Decepticon's treated me like dirt."

"You_ were_ dirt. Just dirt that was useful."

"Better than the dirt on this hideous planet?" Dex mumbled.

Barricade let out a sigh.

"_Certainly_."

* * *

><p>Zora was practically under house arrest. She couldn't believe it; she was almost and adult, yet her parents had forbade her from leaving her house until they "said so." It was really because they were scared. Scared for her, scared of the Decepticons, scared of Optimus. After dinner, Zora's mother had shooed Prime away like he was nothing. Reluctantly, the Autobot leader had driven away, but not before murmuring something to Zora.<p>

_I won't leave you._

Optimus had pretty much made his top priority to keep Zora safe. She knew she should feel honored, and she did, but even more she felt….happy. That meant she would be seeing more of him, and that filled her with joy.

Zora's face hit her pillow, and she groaned into it.

"Should have never agreed to go to that party," she moaned. "Never."

As night fell, Zora tried to go to sleep. She couldn't. Not when she knew she would be having those dreams again, the ones that caused her most of her discomfort. The ones that had her shaking and shivering.

_Nemesis._

The name was stuck in her head, now, rattling around inside her skull. The only thing she knew was that it was an ancient title, and that for some reason, the huge Cybertronian in her dream had used it to address her. She wasn't ancient.

Zora was just about to doze off, when she heard the familiar footsteps. Definitely not as loud as usual. Optimus was trying to be quiet, and was doing a good job of it, too.

Zora rubbed her eyes and sat up, sliding off her bed and making her way to the window. Reaching and pulling it up, Zora found herself gazing into bright blue optics.

"Ssup," was all she could manage. She rubbed her eyes again and yawned.

"I apologize, Zora. I did not mean to wake you."

"Couldn't sleep, so it doesn't really matter," she replied.

Zora watched as Optimus tried to find what to say. His optics were focused on Zora more than anything else. His eyes roamed her body for a split second, taking in the curve of her waist under her nightgown, her bare legs and shoulders, only stopping when Zora cleared her throat.

"Hey, man, I-I'm sorry about….you know, kicking you out of the house," Zora scratched the back of her head, "I didn't want you to be on the receiving end of my mom's wrath. Not a very fun way to go."

"I am more concerned about _you, _Zora," Optimus said, taking a step back. Nobody could see him; the tall palm trees in the backyard concealed him. Her parents didn't have a room overlooking the backyard, just one in the front, and they were also heavy sleepers. Unless Optimus decided to do jumping jacks, Zora's parents would never wake up and see the towering Cybertronian.

"You're worried about _me_," Zora scoffed and leaned on the windowsill, elbows supporting her and her head propped up in her hands. She gazed into Optimus' blue optics. "I'm a big girl…"

"And I'm sure you can take care of yourself on a daily basis," Optimus held out a hand, palm out. "_But_ can you hold your own against a Decepticon?"

Zora, hesitant, slid out the window, landing hard on Optimus' hand. On her knees, she held onto his thumb. She closed her eyes as her hair flew back, and opened them when she felt herself gently placed onto the grass.

"I know that it's not safe being here," Zora said slowly, standing up, her legs wobbly. She strengthened out her nightgown and saw that Optimus was once again eyeing her. "But c'mon, it's my parents were talking about. I at least have a right to see them for a few days."

"Even in a few days things could change drastically," Optimus said, "The Decepticon's can be ruthless at times. They target even the most innocent of humans."

"What interest would my parents be to a bunch of big robots like them?" Zora asked, crossing her arms. "I'm not important. I'm not Sam or Mikaela, important people. I've barely know you guys for…like, how long? Almost two weeks?"

Optimus' piercing stared had Zora shuffling her feet nervously.

"You are important to _me_, Miss Parker. And all of the Autobots," Optimus glanced towards Zora's home. "That gives the Decepticon's one reason to harm you."

Zora felt the urge to say something meaningful back, but swallowed it. She only said, "Oh, right."

"I don't want you getting hurt," Optimus explained. "Nor do I want your parents getting caught in the crossfire."

"Yeah. That would really mess up their day."

"All I ask is for you to return to base as soon as possible."

"About that…" Zora said, intertwining her fingers. "I'm sort of under house arrest."

Optimus tilted his head to the side.

"Going back to base 'as soon as possible' may not work, but hey, maybe I can talk some sense into them….my mom, especially, and get them to let me go. As apposed to the military coming and picking them up for me."

Optimus nodded, understanding. Zora felt him gently wrap his fingers around her waist and lift her up to sit on the windowsill of her room. She ran a hand across his finger and slid back into her room.

"Where are you going now?" She asked suddenly. "Back to base?"

"Yes. I have duties I must fulfill, but I _will _be returning soon," he replied.

Zora didn't have to ask to know that it was a promise.

* * *

><p>Dex could hear Barricade. He could hear the soft purr of his engine as he threw Dex out of the car. Rolling, Dex sprung into a crouch.<p>

"Calm down, Dex," Barricade said, rolling a few feet so he bumped Dex. The Pretender wailed as he fell back down, cheek scraping against the pavement.

"Nobody is in this part of town," Dex heard Barricade say. "So lets get this over with."

"Carry me."

"You can walk a few yards."

Howling, Dex pulled himself to his feet, and began to walk towards the old house in front of him with a chain length fence in the front. Not one person was on the streets, no cars, no nothing. This was a part of town that nobody got near. Dex craned his neck a Barricade transformed, parts shifting, until he stood before Dex.

"You're cruel, Cade', cruel, cruel, cruel," Dex clutched his stomach. Already, a self-diagnostic test told him that the bugs were alive and kicking, chewing through wires and metal. They had released a dull numbing effect, and Dex could barely feel a thing.

"I'm just following orders." Barricade shot back, nudging Dex with his toe. "Go on. We need you someplace the bugs won't spread as fast."

"In a fricken building?"

"That's the idea."

Dex crawled towards the door that had been torn off their hinges. He crawled through the smelly hallway and into the living room that looked like someone had set off a bomb in it. Chairs smashed, the paint on the walls peeled, most of the furniture ripped apart. Cracked floorboard and a ceiling with a pipe hanging down from it. Typical humans who had trashed their dwelling before abandoning it.

"I hate this place. This planet," Dex snarled. He felt a familiar presence behind him and saw that Barricade had activated his holoform, leaving his original self in his alt mode outside.

"I'm just making sure that you don't try to pull something on me."

"I would never do that, Barricade," Dex lied.

"No, you wouldn't."

Dex fell to his knees as he heard them, the bugs, gnawing away, teeth gnashing. They would emerge from him soon, he knew, and he would be no more. Barricade seemed to know that, and began to back away slowly, his holoform already beginning to fizzle out of existence.

"What has this war done to us," Dex whispered as he heard Barricade start his engine.

It had given them nothing.

* * *

><p>"Red, or blue?"<p>

"Frankly, I don't give a damn."

"Sam!"

"I'm just saying!" Sam cried, watching his girlfriend toss the two shirts to the side. Drake stood behind him, cell phone out, texting.

"If you don't want to be here, just go wait outside with Bumblebee," Mikaela said, shrugging. "He's probably all lonely out there."

"Seriously?" Sam said, excited. "C'mon, Drake."

Drake put his phone away, looking oblivious, as usual. Sam thought that he was probably trying to reach Zora, who hadn't returned any of Mikaela calls or texts.

"Where too? Wait in the car with Bee?" Drake asked, pushing past racks of clothing. "_Please_ say yes. No offense, but I can't stand playing twenty questions with your girlfriend anymore."

Sam grinned and nodded in agreement and left Mikaela to shop. Mostly, though, she rummaged through all the clothes and pulled out stuff to look at. Unless Zora was here, she wouldn't buy a thing.

As Sam and Drake walked through the store, Drake looked down at his phone once again.

"Get any text from your girlfriend?" Sam asked, winking at Drake, who raised his eyebrows.

"She is _not_ my girlfriend and no I did not get any texts," Drake looked down at his cell phone, shoving it back into his pocket, disappointed. "No calls, either."

"We'll just have to ask Optimus when he gets back."

"I'm sure she's fine. No need to ask the boss bot."

Sam stopped, as did Drake. They both stared at each other for a moment.

"What's the deal with you and Prime?" Sam asked, crossing his arms. There had been rumors running through the base that Drake and Prime didn't see eye to eye. Sam had meant to ask Drake and confirm his suspicions a while ago, but every time he saw him, he was with Zora. Sam thought it was best to leave the red haired girl out of the conversation because everyone on the base knew that she had grown quite fond of Optimus, as Optimus had grown quite fond of her.

"There's no 'deal,'" Drake mumbled. "We just don't speak to each other."

"It's not like Optimus to hate someone he barely even knows."

"He barely even knows me _because_ of Zora," Drake said quietly. "You should see those two together."

Now, Sam had never been the greatest at judging feeling. However, there was no doubt that Drake had let a little jealousy creep into his voice.

"You got a thing for Zora?" Sam asked as they reached the door.

Drake, nervously, responded. "What is it with you and the questions? This isn't Dr. Phil."

Sam raised his hands in a defensive gesture. Fine. If Drake didn't want to answer any questions, then Sam wasn't about to make him.

"Whoa, dude, calm down. I won't ask anything else."

Drake nodded, and looked out into the parking lot. They could both see the bright yellow Camaro, out in plain sight, parked a little ways away. Sam glanced at Drake, who again had his phone out and was using his hand to shield it from the glare of the hot sun.

"She's responded."

"What did she say?"

"She said that she's under….house arrest."

_Great_. Just _Great_.


	16. Capture

Dex awoke to the sound of hatching.

Hatching out of _him,_ they were, chewing and grinding away at his wiring.

He couldn't feel anything, he realized. He couldn't feel his arms or his legs or those horrid things chewing away at his stomach.

Dex was up, scrambling across the dirty, piss covered couch before tripping and falling to his knees, the sound of chewing getting louder and louder and louder, so loud that it made his ears ring.

Warning signs flashed across his visions even though Dex, as traumatized as he was, could not feel a thing.

He was going to die.

Dex shrieked and tried to find something to pull himself up. Nothing. He fell back down as his human skin began to fade away, dissolve, the disguise shrinking away as quickly as it had come. His own smooth metal face mirrored his human one. Horror.

Was Barricade coming back?

Oh, dear Primus, help me, help me. I'm sorry for everything I've done.

Dex moaned and collapsed, tail slapping across the dusty coffee table.

He remembered some femme. A Decepticon femme he had sort of kind of had a crush on a while ago. What was her name? Flamewar? Whiplash? There were so many…he couldn't think straight and wondered whether or not the things were eating away at his processors, tearing away at his memory, bit by bit.

Dex tried to stand again.

One burst through, and that was when the pain started. A dull ache that swiftly transformed into sheer agony.

"Help me!"

He tried to activate his comm, tried to send a message to every Decepticon out there that he was here and needed help.

No one replied.

Dex sat back down on his aft, reaching down to probe at the wires.

He felt one, stuck his metal finger into its mouth and felt its incisors. They were going slow, taking their time, knowing that they had wires to chew through instead of flesh because Dex wasn't human.

But at least he was still human enough to cry.

* * *

><p>It was Mikaela, of all people, who Zora wanted to talk too.<p>

She had not answered her phone, hadn't wanted to at the time. A quick text to Drake was all she could muster, and then it was back to aimlessly roaming her house.

Finally, she snatched her phone from her desk, one of the only devices she had convinced her parents not to confiscate. She had told them that it was so she could get any warnings from Optimus, or if N.E.S.T needed to make a call. Both were likely.

"Kaela'?" Zora said. Silence, then a voice.

"Zora? Oh my God, where are you? Drake said that you were under house arrest."

Zora bit her thumb. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Are you okay? No con' trouble?" Mikaela asked, "You didn't return any of our calls."

Zora sighed and flopped down on her bed, rubbing her head. "Sorry…I just…"

"…Didn't feel like talking to anyone?" Mikaela's tone was soft and understanding. "We've_ all_ been through that stage."

Zora snorted and sat back up. "_That _I can agree on. Even Optimus seemed to have noticed that I've been channeling my inner bitch lately."

"Inner bitch?"

"It's a Drake thing."

Mikaela didn't respond for several moments. Zora assumed that she was back at the base with Sam and Drake. Zora didn't envy her at all though, sleeping in her own bed had been a blessing. She would take warm sheets over hard cots any time. Not to mention going to bed early and waking up early. It _was_ a military base after all, not a five star hotel.

"What did Optimus say?" Mikaela finally said. "He and the rest of the bot's still haven't gotten back from Synapsis."

"Oh, lord, the bot's are in _Synapsis_…" Zora grimaced. "Anyway, Prime came and visited me yesterday. At night. In _secrecy_. My parents _freaked_ when they found the giant footprints in the backyard."

"Hey, at least he didn't destroy anything. When Sam and I first met the bot's, Optimus made the mistake of stepping on the Witwicky's fountain," Mikaela chuckled through the phone. "That was a_ long_ time ago."

Zora smiled. She had gotten a fraction of the saga from Sam, who had explained everything from the battle at Mission City, to the battle in Egypt. She had been horrified to find out about Optimus' death, even more so than she had expected. Although, after Sam had described to her the "forest fight" as he called it, she found it hard to believe than anything could take the big Autobot down.

"Optimus was giving me elevator eyes," Zora said quietly, looking at her door, expecting her parents to burst through and interrupt and any given moment. "I don't know why."

"_Optimus_? Mikaela said, incredulous. "Sweet, calm ole' _Optimus Prime_ was _checking you out_?"

"That's what it looked like," Zora shrugged, even though Mikaela could not see her. The girl had gone silent, and Zora waited patiently before saying, "I mean, he could have been staring at something else."

_Yeah. Like you._

"Don't let Drake find out…" Mikaela warned.

"Why?"

Zora knew the answer, but asked anyway. It sounded better coming from someone else's mouth. She had always know that Drake had a thing for her, even when they had been working for Dex. He had just been smart enough to hide it, unlike Dex, who would have rather screamed the message out to the world than use stealth to woo her. He had always been like that.

"He likes… _you_."

"Like I haven't figured that out?" Zora laughed and held the phone even tighter. "Mikaela, I've worked and grown up with that boy. He knows how to hide the facts, but after a while, you start to notice."

Mikaela didn't respond for a few moments, and she heard her shift the phone to a different hand.

"Did I mention that he doesn't particularly _like_ Optimus?"

Okay, Zora had not expected _that._

* * *

><p>Ratchet was trying to fight the panic and losing. Badly.<p>

He was in the med bay, like always, trying to come to grip with how serious the situation was getting.

Like it wasn't serious already. Serious was Ratchet's whole life now, always had, always would be. His job was serious, and he had been prepared for that. Billions of years of training and experience had taught him that.

But nothing had prepared him for this.

He was in, with Optimus having gone out to do this and that. This and that while Ratchet sat back and watched the humans cowering back in fear. Some civilians, most soldiers, all sitting on their own little cots, wrapped in blankets and shivering like wet dogs.

Some of it was just the flu, he hoped. Or something like the flu. He hadn't had ay new case in several hours, which was a relief, because he wasn't sure if his so called "help" would be of any assistance.

"Yo, man, stop pushin' me!"

"If you'd move ya face maybe I woudn' have ta be pushin' you!"

Mudflap shoved his brother back even more fiercely and before, and that was when Ratchet dropped his tools and turned on them. Fight and fight and fight. It was all they did and all they knew how to do.

"Stop."

One word was enough, and the two Cybertronians ceased their banter and went silent. An eerie silence filled the room, the only sound being the deep, raspy breathing of sick humans. The air seemed damp, almost, and Ratchet could smell it. That sickly mixture of urine and vomit and feces.

Someone coughed.

One of the humans, body swathed in bed sheets, coughed so hard that she tumbled off the bed. She stayed their for a few beats, tried to get to her feet, coughed, and fell again.

"Mudflap." Ratchet said without preamble.

The Autobot knelt down on one knee, hand extending to gently pick the human up and lay her back down on the bed.

Ratchet shuddered his optics and went around for the second time in that hour, taking temperatures. One at a time. No all at once, certainly not. He wanted every individual piece of information in his processors, free from any error.

The worst was a man, a close Autobot ally, Ratchet recognized, whose temperature was 106. He had hit full-scale delirium already and was rambling on and on to someone who wasn't there.

"This sucks." Skidz acknowledged. For the first time, he was serious, and his optics held a pitying gaze as he stared down at the sick humans.

"Indeed it does," Ratchet agreed.

A cough. It was the woman from before. But this time she kept on coughing and kept on coughing until she coughed so hard she toppled backwards off the cot.

Ratchet was up in a sparkbeat as the room erupted into chaos. Screams and sobs, screams and sobs, the noise Ratchet was used to hearing, but only of terror and pain. These cries were cries of despair and death and forgiveness.

The delirious man was babbling away even louder now, until his words became screams.

The woman coughed once and something flew out of her mouth, nearly missing Skidz.

Mudflap didn't speak, didn't make some nasty remark or laugh at the fact that his brother had literally gotten hit with guts. He just scrambled for the door and yanked it open and ran, ran, ran.

"No…" Ratchet breathed, throwing himself onto his knees, seeing the bulge appear in the woman's chest, hearing it biting and biting and chewing and chewing.

The woman bent over backwards, spine snapping, and just fell back down and died. Just like that. Alive, then dead.

Ratchet bellowed and smashed the bug. Kept on smashing it until it was nothing more than a smear against the floor.

Skidz was not moving.

"Skidz," Ratchet, not keeping his eyes off the dead human, reached over and shook the youngling until he shook his head, snapping out of whatever trance he had been in.

"Ya…?"

"I have to…can you take care of her?" Ratchet jerked his chin towards the woman.

"Nah, man, I ain't touchin' er'," Skidz began to back up, hands raised. "No way, man."

Ratchet's fist clenched, and he turned to look at the body. Why. Why this? Whose horrendous idea was it to try to win the war using biological warfare? Whose processors were screwed up enough to even consider something like this?

"Why…" Ratchet whispered. He turned, steeling himself, shoulders raised. He was a medic. Medic's didn't give up. He said, "Skidz…?"

But Skidz was already gone.

* * *

><p><p>

As soon as the doorbell rang, Zora had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She pushed her chair away and crossed the dining room, opening the front door. Instantly, the smell of cheap, store-bought cologne filled her scent, the figure of a man blocking out the harsh sun.

"What do you want?" She tried not to snarl.

"Is that_ seriously_ how you want to greet a government agent? I don't know about you, sweetheart, but my Ma always taught me to address people with a simple 'good afternoon."

The voice, the man's voice, it was slightly accented, and oozing with so much self-confidence that it made Zora want to hurl on his expensive, fancy black shoes. She waved a hand dismissively and he peered from under dark-lidded sunglasses, dark eyes seeming to zero in on her face and soak in her features.

It made her skin crawl, and she went to slam the door shut, but the man blocked it with his shoe.

"Nah, ah, ah, kiddo. Hang on just a second," the man waved a finger. One hand was braced against the door frame, the other reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. He flipped it open, stared at if for a beat, and then said, "Zora Grace Parker?"

_Shit, he knows my name!_

What came out was, "Um…yeah. Can I…erm…help you?"

"It's my understanding that _you_ can help _us_," the man extended a hand. "Seymour Simmons. Surely N.E.S.T briefed you about my contribution and obligations so I can spare you the sob story of how I got to where I am now?"

No. In fact, Lennox had barely told her anything, he was on such a tight schedule. She had been left to figure everything out for herself.

"Never heard of you."

She saw a vein on the man's temple visibly twitch. She looked at his hand, stared and stared and stared until he finally got the message that she wouldn't be shaking anyone's hand anytime soon.

"Look, kid….make this easy for me," he rubbed the back of his head. "I'm your chaperone. I am your escorter, and you are my…_escortee_."

"I'm not coming with you, if that's what you want."

The man in the doorway was less than amused. He fumbled with his other pocket and pulled out a badge, flipping it over so it's gold surface caught in the sun and shined in Zora's eyes.

"_This_ enough to make you change your mind?"

"A badge? Where did you get that, Wal-Mart?"

Simmons peered past her shoulder, into her home, and Zora wondered how indigenous he was to insults. He said, "Your parent home, kid?"

"If they were, I wouldn't tell you. I'm…under house arrest. Forever. So you and your buddies…." Zora looked past his shoulder and grimaced at the polished, black vehicles parked in her driveway. She'd rather them leave before someone noticed, and the _real_ cops showed up. Fancy cars rarely entered her neighborhood, and those that did attracted a lot of attention.

"You and your buddies better leave real quickly, before something happens to you."

"Like what? I'm I big boy, I can take care of myself," Simmons smirked. "It's you were worried about, kiddo. You're like that Witwicky boy. You attract aliens."

"How do I know that_ you're _not an alien?"

"Please. Aliens aren't _this_ alluring," Simmons stared down at Zora, triumphant. With a swift turn on his heels, he cupped his hands and shouted into them, his voice like a megaphone set on high. "Yo! Fredrick! You and Sean go in a give a heads up to the fine owners of this home."

The two men stepped out of their designated vehicles, storming up to the front porch and pushing past Zora. They thundered through the house, and in the back, she could hears her dads angry shouts.

"Sorry," Simmons said, though his voice held no remorse. "Had to do it. Government policies are a bitch," before Zora could protest, he took her by the arm and led her down the driveway. Towards the car, where the driver was staring at the window, watching the scene unfold.

"Dude, let me go!" Zora cried, swatting at his hand. "Let me go!"

"I told you! N.E.S.T need you back," Simmons jerked her, rather painfully, towards the car. "I have the authority to execute whatever means are necessary to get you back!"

"This is _not_ necessary! Ouch, man, you're…." Zora bit her tongue to keep from cursing. "Clip your nails, Edward Scissorhands!"

Simmons threw her into the car and slammed the door. He spoke to the driver, a bald man with an even balder personality, for he just stepped onto the gas and took off, leaving Zora's rural neighborhood behind them. She didn't resist, didn't knock both Simmons and the driver out like she should have. She just sat with her arms crossed, sweat beading on her brow, and gave Simmons the nastiest glare she could muster.

"That was unnecessary," she said to Simmons again. "What about my parents? I have a life, you know. You can't just summon me back like I'm some dog."

"I have a badge that says I can," Simmons nodded and flashed his badge, just one more time, to get the point across. Zora about took it and chucked it out the window. "Your parents? I say they're safer away from _you_."

"I'm flattered."

"If you care about them, you'll understand. Me? I haven't seen my Ma in months."

"That's because you're a grown man with a full-time job."

"And you're an almost-grown, hot – I mean, _attractive _young woman who's lost her job twice," Simmons smiled, glancing out at the cars and foliage and lights speeding by, blurs against the window. "Who would have thought?"

"The first job I lost was on me," Zora snapped. "The second was because my boss was perverted, had a habit of telling me how horny he was whenever he saw me, and turned out to be an alien bent on destroying mankind."

Simmons was silent.

With an extra nasty sneer, Zora said, "Who would have thought?"

* * *

><p>Synapsis was the name of the town. After having driven back to the base, Optimus, the rest of the Autobots, and a handful of N.E.S.T. human soldiers were called out to go to Synapsis.<p>

It was a semi-rich town right by the ocean. The owners of the huge, monstrous estates were in the middle, while the rest of Synapsis was plagued with crime and treachery. The outskirts were the worst, with little people, little police force, and little law. Or, there was law, but there wasn't a police force to back it up.

The place was so dead. It was a haven for Decepticon's, practically. Optimus wouldn't have been surprised if the Decepticon base was buried beneath the run down town. Optimus didn't even have to activate his holoform, for there was no one around.

Thank Primus Zora didn't live here. He didn't know why he was thinking of the red haired girl now. Surely, the strange interest he had of her would dissipate over time.

Optimus turned a corner, driving slowly, taking his time. There was no traffic, no nothing. Just the glare of the setting sun. The only streetlights were flickering back and forth from green to red.

_"Prime to Ironhide, has there been any escalating Decepticon activity?" _Optimus asked through his comlink, waiting for Ironhide to answer. The older bot was somewhere else in Synapsis, scouting with Chromia and Arcee.

_"We have picked up on a signal. It's a faint signal, though."_

_"Keep searching, Ironhide, and wait for my command."_

_"With pleasure."_

Then, Ironhide was gone.

It was lonely, driving through the town. Ever since he had met Zora, she had made her temporary home in his alt mode, since she had been in it so many times. He actually wished that she were with him. They talked about so much, and she had really helped him understand human culture a lot more, especially the bad parts of it.

_Crunch!_

Optimus stopped.

_Crunch!_

It was coming from a house. A house that he had just passed. It was a dilapidated building, and had a chain length fence protecting it. A chain length fence that was broken in a variety of places.

Optimus stared at the home, before running scans on it. Something in the home had a faint energy signal that was ebbing away ever so slowly.

A scream. A loud, horrendous, spark-wrenching shriek of pain. Then, nothing. The energy signal faded away, along with the life of whatever Cybertronian it belonged to.

Now, there was a shuffling sound. Optimus saw something long and hooked bust through the doorway, sending wood flying. Frantically, he backed up as the huge cockroach with eyes the size of dinner plates squeezed through the doorway.

_"Prime to Ironhide. We have a situation. Send backup as soon as possible."_

That was all Optimus could manage before the bug was on him, tearing at his alt mode. He backed up, transformed, and swatted the bug with a gigantic hand. He missed, and found himself hitting the ground, the bug still on him. Snarling, he swatted it again. The bug squealed and rolled across the concrete, wings scraping against the hard surface. Then, it hopped back up like nothing had happened.

Something wet hit Optimus in the leg, and he twisted his head and saw a long, black, barbed tongue hooked around his ankle. Another bug had snuck behind him, this one the size of a car. Frantically, Optimus reached down, wrapping both hands around it and tearing it in half, watching as wires split and bug juice splashed onto the ground.

He hadn't forgotten about the other one, the smaller one that was trying to find a way to sneak up under his armor. This one was the cockroach, with all its clicking mandibles inches from Optimus' foot. He spun and stepped on it, grinding his foot into the ground, watching the bug pop.

"Disgusting," he muttered, readying his blaster and searching for any more bugs.

Something wet slapped against his back, and Optimus turned and snarled, blasting another bug before grabbing another and trying to rip it in half.

More! Optimus hadn't even sensed them coming. Bugs of all shapes and sized, huge wasp, a gigantic cockroach, a small moth, all swarming over him, each armed with a long, black, barbed tongue.

He fell. He couldn't believe it, but he fell facedown, cheek smacking against the concrete. One bug hooked a tongue around his leg and dragged him, surprisingly strong for its size.

There was the sound of a jet passing overhead, and Optimus groaned as another bug held him down by the shoulder, twisting its tongue up under his armor. More and more swarmed over him, and soon, he could barely move a digit.

"No! Do _not _offline him!" Starscream roared, leisurely trotting over to Optimus, who was pinioned, helpless. He twisted his head and saw Starscream's red optics inches from his own.

"Look what we've caught…." Starscream tilted his head. "And a _Prime_, by the looks of it. Megatron will be absolutely _overjoyed_ when he see's you presented as a gift to him from_ yours truly_."

Optimus said something quite rude to Starscream, and the huge con' reeled back before narrowing his optics. He knelt back down and curled his long talons around Optimus' neck, jerking him forward.

"Don't fret; this will only hurt a _second_." Starscream sneered. He flicked his wrist.

Lights out.


	17. Snatched

His whole head hurt terribly. Horrible, excruciating pain that made him wish he were dead. He would rather go to the pit than sit through any of the pain.

Maybe he was already dead. It sure seemed like it. Dark place, no light, pain. Agony. Nothing he hadn't experience before, but just at a whole new level.

"Are you comfortable_, brother_?" That growling voice sneered. Optimus tried to move, tried to lash out and silence that wretched voice, but he couldn't.

He wiggled a servo. He could feel it move. His optics just wouldn't work right, and his head felt extremely heavy. His internal conditions were somewhat stable, though.

"Don't get _too _comfortable. The broken neck suits you, by the way."

Optimus gritted his dental plates as he felt Megatron's talons wrap firmly around his head, twisting him onto his side so he could get a clear view of his "brother." His red optics were the only thing he could see. His own optics were damaged, and he wondered how they had gotten that way.

"Of all the presents Starscream has brought me, this is by far the _most exciting_," Megatron drawled. He kicked Prime in the side, and the large mech's head banged against the hard stone floor.

Once again, the lights went _out_.

* * *

><p>"So…." Simmons twisted his fingers together, clearly embarrassed, for his flushed face showed it. "Come here often?"<p>

He was trying to make a conversation and Zora felt sorry for him, the exchange of friendly words obviously being new to him. He was the one type so caught up in his work, so antisocial, that the prospect of having a chat regarding something _not_ relating to his profession scared him. Or made him look like a fool.

Zora glanced at him, not knowing how to respond. "Sure," she finally said. "It's not like a live here or anything."

Simmons waved a finger and chuckled. Zora went back to staring out at the passing world, seeing another vehicle – this one obviously part of the convoy – speed ahead.

"Did ya' enjoy your job….you know…before everything went down. Before you knew that he was evil? And horny?" Simmons mumbled. He leaned against the door, resting his head in his hands.

"Nope. Drake and I….we've had our experiences with Dex. Or what used to be Dex. You know, the whole Pretender thing always freaks me out, so I'm not going to talk about. I'm sure you've had your experiences regarding the aliens."

"Sure I have. Been workin' with em' my entire life."

"Wait, what?"

Simmons reached out and patted Zora red hair, grinning toothily. "I'll tell you when you're older, kiddo."

Zora rolled her eyes.

"You have a boyfriend?" Simmons asked suddenly, as if the possibility had jut struck him. He watched Zora with dark eyes, face hidden in the shadows.

"I wouldn't call him a boyfriend."

"What, then? Facebook friend? Twitter-follower…. conspiracy blogger, like yours truly?"

"Just a friend."

Simmons made a sound in the back of his throat and scooted out of the dark concealment of the shadows, saying, "I know what that means…..you haven't done the horizontal tango with him yet, have you?"

Zora opened mouth, but no sound came out. It was the shock that had robbed her of her words, Simmon's impulsive curiosity making her shake her head in disgust.

"What. The. Fu–"

"I was just asking!" Simmons raised his hands in a placating gesture, and in the front seat, one of the burly agents snickered. "I'm an Agent. I work for the government," he scratched the back of his head. "We have to know these things for…um….social security and crap."

"I'm trying to secure my social life from you!" Zora snapped back. The images were in her head, now. She had tried so desperately to shut away the feel of Drake's bare chest against hers, his hot breath against her neck.

His hands, caressing her thigh….it was all in the past. And she certainly wasn't going to talk to Simmons about it.

"No. I haven't slept with him," Zora mumbled. "And that's all you're getting from me."

It was a weird conversation that would never leave her mind. Already, she could feel her cheeks beginning to blaze, sinking her body further and further into the seat, trying to put as much space between herself and Simmons.

Crazy, she thought, as the black sedan careened out into the highway.

Almost as crazy as the car in front of them exploding.

The detonation was quick, the blast of heat front the eruption shattering the windows, and sending both Simmons and Zora flying back into their seats. Zora's head hit something hard, and she felt blood explode inside her mouth as she accidentally bit the inside of her cheek. She growled and spat just as the driver jerked the car to the side, sending her plowing into Simmons' chest.

"David!" Simmons' grunted. "What the…hell was that?"

Overhead, the sound of a jet. Both Simmons and Zora looked up, expecting the roof to suddenly be torn away. But it stayed intact and outside, the smell of burning rubber and smoking gasoline was growing strong.

The driver – David – had his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes directed not on the road, but at the man beside him, who was busy nursing a gaping wound inflicted by the flying glass.

"Everyone out! C'mon! Move it!" Simmons was shouting, ushering Zora and the others out of the car, out into the busy streets. The cars that had been within close proximity to the explosion had been blown elsewhere, flipped over on their sides, their passengers screaming and crying for help.

"Shit…." Simmons cursed and ran his fingers through his dark hair. He was staring at the burning mass of metal in front of them. "F-Fredrick and Sean were in there….good guys, man….very good guys…."

As Zora looked at the wreckage, her stomach feeling as if it were doing flips, she knew that those two very, very good guys were very, very dead.

And they would be, soon, if they didn't move.

Starscream dropped a load of missiles that streaked through the air and scoured the land, Simmons falling and forcing Zora under him as the asphalt around them erupted, huge chunks sailing and crashing into cars and people. The heat from the simultaneous blasts made Zora feel as if someone were flaying her skin, and she gripped Simmons' vest for protection. As if it would even help.

There was nowhere to go, she realized, as she looked up and saw a flying chunk of rock crash into a writhing mass of crawling, burned civilians and bounce away, leaving a red smear in its wake. A car beside them flipped over, the windows shattering, its roof caving inward.

Trapped. It was the perfect place to execute an attack as flawless as this one, with no cover, nothing to hide behind, no N.E.S.T close enough to come to the rescue…..

Zora – no, _everyone_ – should have seen it coming.

Beside Zora, the man in the passengers seat was on his back, shrapnel thrust through his gut. David was trying to tend to him and call N.E.S.T at the same time, screaming into his cell phone over the noise.

His hand were covered in a sickly red substance….

Simmons burst into action and gestured him away. "I'll work on him…"

David stood, covering his head with his hands and Starscream soared overhead again and let rip a barrage of missiles that caused the asphalt to steam. He was skewering the land around them, leaving the best for last.

The concussions of heat caused Zora ears to pop. She curled into a ball, trying to make herself as small as possible, clapping her hands over her ears, the screams of the injured and dying poking and prodding, trying to penetrate her eardrums.

David was stepping back and back, his suit covered in blood and dirt, one hand over his left ear while the other pressed the phone against his right ear. His feet shuffled ever so awkwardly and as Zora looked up, seeing Starscream's form, a dark silhouette against the sun, she lunged towards him, mouth open to call out.

The blast was deafening. A blinding hot white light seared her vision, and Zora found herself hitting the ground, back scraping across asphalt, tendons protesting. Her head slammed into the ground and she opened her mouth to scream as she felt the blood flowing out of her ears.

She couldn't hear. Everything around her was that searing white light, the explosions and the cries muffled.

She lay there.

Sometime later – she couldn't tell when – she twitched a finger. And then tested a leg, and then an arm, and then finally, when the time was right, her head. Her vision was fuzzy and her ears were bleeding, and she knew that she had ruptured an eardrum. Or shattered something or done something irreversible.

She rolled over on her side and looked across the asphalt. The car they had all emerged from was on fire. Simmons lay on his back, his shirt burned so badly that it had practically fused to his skin. His eyes were closed. Zora could see the slow rise and fall of his chest and knew that he was alive, but not by how much.

The other man, the one with the shrapnel through his gut, had taken the direct hit. Zora could tell because there was barely anything left of him but a few charred bones. A few feet away from him was David, his legs nothing but two burning stumps.

He was writhing around, screaming. Zora, using whatever ounce of strength she had left, crawled over to him, through the puddles of blood and flesh, and gripped his blackened hands.

She shakily pressed them against her lips.

"It's going to be alright…." She murmured, though one of David's eyes was closed. The other was open, darting back and forth, examining Zora's face as if seeing it for the first time.

"Help…." She croaked, feeling his shaking fingers. She clutched his hand tightly, determined not to let go. "Someone help…."

She cried out, but there was no one to hear her. The cars were piled so high that they blocked the highway, the people around her either dead or dying, some burning, others hunkered down in their flipped vehicles, satisfied in staying right where they were.

Zora looked down, gulping, David's grip on her hands slackening. And then, with one final breath, his hand dropped down to his side. He died.

The screech of tires, the blast of a siren. A police cruiser, and hopefully, a policeman. Someone with a weapon. Someone to help her.

But in less than a second her little flicker of hope was snuffed out.

The car changed, parts shifting, metal grinding against metal in a whole display that left Zora speechless.

It was Barricade, or whatever his name was, and he looked overjoyed to see her. It wasn't a good look for him.

"Well, well," he said. "Nemesis."


	18. Hellhole

**Don't own it. **

**Wow. Quick update...anyway, enjoy! Review's are appreciated**

* * *

><p>"You brought this <em>thing<em> to me _why, _Barricade?"

Zora had despised Megatron the first time she had looked at him. She had come to read alien expressions pretty well, and she just hated the arrogant, smug look on Megatron's face. That didn't mean she didn't fear him, no, but her hatred overpowered her fear right now. That, and the pain in her legs. She could barely stand, let alone face Megatron.

She was in a cave. In the Decepticon base, she presumed somewhere deep underground, where not even the Autobots could detect it. Megatron himself lay sprawled across his "brilliant" throne, one long talon tapping against his leg, the other lazily dangling from the side.

"She had some sort of strange energy radiating off of her. Cybertronian energy," Barricade explained. Zora yelped when he nudged her with his foot, sending her sprawling out onto the stone floor. She shakily sat up on her knees, staring at Megatron.

Megatron got a peculiar gleam in his optic. One that Zora didn't like, one that Zora had gotten a glimpse of just before Starscream had begun to squash innocents humans, one by one, into paste.

"A defense mechanism? Odd." Megatron stood from his throne, kneeling down, knee plates scraping across the stone. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard.

Zora did not speak, but gave Megatron the most hostile glare she could muster. He was right in her face, so close that she could feel the hot air coming from his mouth. It was revolting, and she flinched away.

"Ah. I feel it," two of Megatron talons reached out and gripped Zora's face, squeezing her cheeks and snapping her head up to look him in the optic. "Nemesis, you said?" he glanced at Barricade, who nodded. "Why would a _Prime _choose to inhabit the body of a _human_?"

"Wait, what?" Zora said loudly, wincing when her voice came out scratchy and muffled. Megatron still had a firm grip on her face, and it seemed that he did not intend to let it go.

"Quiet, fleshling!" He snarled, flicking his talon, and Zora found herself lying face down on the stone ground, head throbbing painfully. Megatron hovered over her, smirking.

Zora didn't want to be quiet. Megatron reached down, trying to wrap his metal fingers around her waist and lift her up. The sudden image of when Barricade had dropped her was still fresh in her mind, and she growled and scooted across the floor. When Megatron's talons first touched her waist, she screamed and swatted and his hand, feeling something, like a small spark, dance across her fingertips and onto his long finger.

He leaped back. Literally leaped back as if he had been stung. His optics narrowed as his surprised expression was replaced by rage.

"What did you just do?" He hissed.

Zora didn't say a word. She just stared at him, stared at her hands, and then stared back at him.

"_Answer _me!" He said again, louder this time, so that his voice bounced off the walls.

"I _don't_ know."

"Wrong answer."

He brought his fist down so fast that they became a blur. Zora knew that she was a millisecond from death, that Megatron _would _and _was _going to kill her. That was why she was so surprised when his fist stopped an inch from her head, already uncurling, already pulling away. She had been covering her head with her hands, and let them drop back down into her lap. Megatron stood above her, grinning.

"_No._ It would be…._discourteous _to offline something that has been brought to me as a gift," he glanced at the huge doorway. "I guess the same goes for your….Autobot friend."

Zora's eyes went wide with fear, and she quickly turned away when Megatron shot her a look of contempt. He practically ran on fear, and Zora was sure as hell not going to show any fear. Not while _he _was still around.

Zora felt her hope extinguished when two Decepticon guards dragged in a beaten, exhausted Optimus Prime, dumping him on the floor right in front of Zora. His head was turned at an unnatural angle, even for a self-healing alien like him, and his armor was scratched, some of it having been completely stripped away to reveal long cables and wires underneath.

"You sick _bastard_," Zora spat, getting to her feet, wincing when a sharp pain shot up her legs. She held her ground and stared at Megatron, lips curled back over her teeth in a threatening snarl. "You _sick, demented, freak!"_

"Keep speaking, fleshling, and Optimus Prime _dies _by my hands. Just as I had intended."

Zora shut her mouth, one because she knew Megatron would actually execute the threat, and two because she was close to tears. No. She would _not _cry in front of him.

She felt the first tear trickle down her face before it fell and spattered against the floor, disappearing along with the first shred of her sanity.

* * *

><p>They let her live. Believe it or not, Megatron had refused to kill her because of all the information she had, and because according to Scalpel, the wild Decepticon doctor, she was hosting a Prime. Or something along the lines of that. Zora hadn't really been paying attention because she had been to busy writhing around in pain as Scalpel injected her with medication after medication, made her take test after test, hour after hour. The left side of her face was bruising badly, quickly turning yellow after Barricade had swatted her across the room for talking back.<p>

She would have to learn her place and cooperate, as Barricade had told her, or Megatron would simply get bored with her and turn her into a pile of crushed bones and slaughtered guts.

Now, she sat in a Cybertronian-sized cell, alone. Optimus had been taken, dragged away, struggling and making strange animal-like sounds. Then, Zora had sat in her cell and listened to him being beaten. He screamed at first, so loud that she could hear it down the hallway. Then, as time passed, the base had grown quiet. She could still hear the sounds of metal against metal echoing down the hallway, meaning that the Prime was still being tortured. He was probably dead. Either that, or wishing he were.

"Leave him. Megatron isn't through with the slagger just yet…." One of the guards said, flinging Optimus into the cell, just barely avoiding crushing Zora. She was huddled in a corner, and perked back up as the Prime thudded down in front of her, head rolling to the side. One optic was dark, the other seeming to be missing. For some reason, Zora was glad that the room produced little light. She didn't want to see the rest of his body. She knew that it was a wreck.

The guards heavy footsteps and loud voices disappeared, leaving complete silence, except for the occasional moan coming from Optimus.

Zora was afraid to approach him, but she did anyway. He was in a position where his head faced her, still bent a little out of shape. He didn't even seem to acknowledge her presence.

She reached out and let her raw, aching hands graze his warm metal cheek.

"Hey." Was the only thing she could say. She knew asking him if he was okay was stupid in so many ways. He wasn't okay, might not ever be.

"Z-Zora?" his voice came out barely a whisper. Barely audible. Zora pressed her other hand against his cheek, sliding up closer so her forehead touched the metal.

"I'm sorry. I'm _so, so _sorry," Zora said, sobbing now. "None of this should have happened. None of it."

He didn't reply. Couldn't. He just grunted.

"Look," Zora said, not really caring about herself now, but about her friend. "We _are _going to get out of here. Together. I swear to God or Primus or whatever you believe in that I will _not _let you die."

Optimus managed to pull of a faint smile. It was barely recognizable, but Zora was able to see it, and she brushed her fingers against his lip plates, smiling back, then shivering as a gust of cold air hit her skin.

Suddenly, she felt his hand move. Gigantic metal fingers gently coaxed her downward, and she sank to the floor, lying on her side as Prime's fingers wrapped around her like a blanket. Immediately, there was no cold air. Only warmth, and she knew she could have stayed like that forever.

"S-Sleep," Optimus rumbled. "Y-You look like you n-need i-it."

So, she slept.

* * *

><p>"You son of a - "<p>

"Drake!"

"I don't give a damn, Mikaela!" Drake spat, glaring when Sam stepped forward. "Back off, Sam, let me pound this guy into _nothing_!"

Simmons had gotten back to the base, dirty and drained, reporting that they had lost Zora on a "mission gone wrong."

Bullshit. Drake didn't care. Zora was missing, and it had been _his _responsibility to watch her. _His _responsibility to take care of her, and he had blown it big time.

"We have more important things to be worrying about," Sam said firmly, placing a hand on Drake's shoulder. He shrugged it off and glared at Simmons, who had backpedalled and was now undergoing a strict interrogation by William Lennox and Robert Epps, both looking extremely pissed in their own way.

"Like what? Optimus? He can take care of himself." Drake snarled, turning to face a bewildered Sam.

Suddenly, it got _very _quiet. Soldiers and officials who had overheard Drake stopped and stared. Others kept walking, but shot Drake nasty looks. Drake ignored them; feeling rage boiling inside him, ready to burst out. He would take it out on anyone, really, Sam. Hopefully, Simmons.

"You don't _care _about Optimus?" Sam said, incredulous. "Dude, seriously. This whole jealousy thing has gone too far."

"It's not about the freaking jealousy thing!" Drake cried. "I mean, it never was. And I'm not jealous! I'm just a little bit _concerned _for my _girlfriend_!"

Girlfriend. He had let it slip out accidentally, and he slammed his mouth shut when Sam's eyebrows rose, and Mikaela's eyes widened.

"N-No, I-I didn't mean it that way," Drake stammered, shutting his mouth again when he felt himself blush. He coughed when Sam smirked. "Anyway, I just want get her _home_."

"Home, as apposed to here?" Mikaela cut in. Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. "You don't like it here?"

"I never said that."

"The way you said it made it sound like you _were _implying it," Mikaela said pointedly.

Mikaela had used one of Zora's lines. Drake wondered if she had learned it from her.

"Yeah. Whatever," Drake muttered. "I wish I would have never gotten involved in this whole alien bullshit."

Drake turned his back on his friends and began walking down the hallway, away from the hangar, away from the Autobots. He missed Zora already, missed her smile, and missed her voice. She was probably being tortured right now, cooped up in some hellhole being beaten to death by Megatron. It wouldn't have been a surprise, considering the fact that Megatron was a psychopath.

"Dude," Sam had caught up with him, matching his pace. Drake glared, but the young Witwicky refused to back off. "I know that your pissed. I would be too. But don't take it too far."

"And _how _exactly did I take it too far?" Drake stopped walking, turning to face Sam, hands balled into fist. "It was _you _who agreed with me when I said that Simmons was an irresponsible asshole with no life and a cheap haircut!"

Sam frowned. "Well, true. But at least I didn't try to punch him and tear off his balls. That part was all you."

Drake shrugged and rolled his eyes, not even wanting to comment. Sam was right, though, he was letting rage blind him. Being pissed at Simmons for being a douche wasn't going to help Zora, or Optimus, at all. Drake knew that he couldn't contribute much, that it was N.E.S.T who made the decisions….but Drake knew one thing.

He would do everything in his power to get Zora back.


	19. Fire

**Don't own it. **

**Wow, chapter twenty already. Don't worry, there's still more to come. Reviews are appreciated.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Eat, fleshling. Megatron wants his <em>pet<em> healthy."

"Not in the _mood_," Zora drawled, refusing to even look Starscream in the eye. She sat in her cell, Optimus in recharge beside her, back facing the wall. Starscream would occasionally glance at Prime and make a rude noise before focusing back on Zora, trying to get her to eat. So far, Zora was doing her best at trying to make it difficult for him. Anything that would drive him insane. He wouldn't kill her. No. He followed Megatron, and more importantly, he followed Megatron's _orders_.

"You insignificant ball of flesh and blood! When I say _eat, _I _want _you to _eat!_" Starscream held the food down to her, a bland plate of….fish and artichokes. Zora internally grimaced, but reluctantly snatched the food from Starscream's fingers.

"This is shit," she said loudly, so Starscream would hear. His red optics held fury, and Zora mentally gave herself a pat on the back. She watched as he shook his head and walked off. When his heavy footsteps faded, she stared at the food in disgust before shoving it away. There was no telling what kind of…._stuff _they could have put in the food.

"Eat," Optimus croaked, already out of recharge and slowly sitting up. Zora heard metal against metal, and a creaking noise. Optimus was having trouble even sitting up.

"Keep….um, recharging, if you need too," Zora stepped towards him. "I'm sure that you need it."

"And _I _am sure that _you_ need _energy,_" Optimus glanced at the plate of food, his one flickering optic darting back and forth between Zora and the food. "Go ahead. I detect no harmful substances within the food."

Zora gulped, and shook her head, feeling a little guilty when Optimus stared at her hard. "I-I'll eat it later," she lied. "I'm not even hungry."

Optimus shot her a look, but Zora did not take the food.

Her stomach was growling. Just a little. No biggie.

"As you wish." Optimus rested his head against the wall, shuddering his optics as two Decepticon guards walked by, not even paying any attention to the prisoners. "Just remember, _your_ safety is what worries me most."

Zora huffed and walked over, running her fingers over the armor on his leg. He did not flinch away from her touch. In fact, it almost seemed like he was leaning in towards her….. She shivered, but it wasn't from the cold.

"Thanks, big guy."

Optimus gave her a sort of lopsided smile.

"Sucks that we have to stay in here," Zora said, trying to make a conversation. Anything to distract her, and more importantly, to distract Optimus from all the pain. "Although….I guess it beats being held down by Megatron."

"You are right."

His voice was hallow. Weak. It sounded nothing like his usual calm, gentle, commanding voice. If he had been human, he would be on the verge of spiraling down into depression, with no hope.

"C'mon, Prime. Talk to me," Zora ran her fingers across his leg again, feeling each dent and scratch. They looked like they hurt.

"Zora….please," Optimus pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his one good optic and groaning in pain. Zora sighed at let her hand drop to her side, her attempts at cheering him up futile. She knew that he wouldn't give up so easy, no. Never in a million years.

Zora sat cross legged. The ache in her legs had suddenly returned, along with a particularly nasty migraine. She let out a breath as Optimus looked down at her, and she tried her best to look as intact as possible. It was even more difficult than she had imagined.

"You are damaged. Scalpel_ failed_ to treat you properly," Optimus said angrily. Zora shrugged and rubbed her throbbing head. Real, genuine care twinkled in his one optic, and Zora smiled.

"I've been through….worse," Zora bit her tongue and looked up at Optimus. The large mech tilted his head to the side. "Yeah. Its true. If your human, never got into Synapsis alone."

Optimus blinked.

"Long story. Want to hear? It will really brighten your mood," Zora said sarcastically. "Joking."

Optimus gave a slight nod, and Zora continued.

"I used to live in Synapsis. Not in the bad part, but in the other part. The wealthy, middle part," Zora paused, glancing up at Optimus, who had shifted closer.

"You did not enjoy it there?" Optimus asked, one finger coming down to stroke Zora's back.

"Hell, no. It was chaos. Gangs, drugs….rape. Murder. Not the best place for a thirteen year old at the time. In fact, I had met a few thugs…well, they didn't seem like thugs at the time. Quinn and Sledge. Okay dudes….except for Sledge…he really liked hammers, hence the nickname," Zora snorted. "They used to call me 'redhead.' Good name, except that my hair was more orange than red."

Zora looked up at Optimus, who hadn't made a sound. She realized that he probably didn't give a damn about her crappy social life, and she shook her head.

"Whatever. You probably don't want to hear a sob story about my shitty childhood."

"Keep going."

Zora raised her eyebrows, and reluctantly continued. "Anyway, I went out with them both one day….and figured out that they wanted to go steal from some poor boy. Mug him, really. Beat him down and take his clothes and money and anything else he had."

"You followed them?" Optimus' one optic widened.

"Well, I followed them up until the actual mugging. It was some poor little boy, my age, dark hair and bright eyes"

Zora could tell that Optimus knew he she was talking about. He didn't say a word, thought, and Zora was grateful.

"They beat him down. Asked to grab his stuff and run, to meet them at their 'HQ' Later."

"I'm assuming you ran," Optimus said, closing his one optic. "And they followed?"

"You're a genius, you know that?" Zora said, hoping to keep any hint of sarcasm out of her voice. "You know what its like to make hard decisions because you're a leader."

"Yes. And sometimes the right decision may be the most difficult."

"Yeah. And you know what? Sledge and Quinn came looking for me afterwards….said that they were going to hurt me. Bad. They cornered me, and broke my arm."

Zora didn't miss the way Optimus seemed to jump when she mentioned herself being harmed.

"They were arrested, eventually," Zora smiled, scooting closer to Optimus and resting her head against a peace of dented armor. "I went and talked to…the boy. He had been visiting his relatives, and ended up being a victim. Sort of like now, except, you know, not as serious. I have to say, it was the start of a _beautiful _friendship."

"You made the right decision," Optimus reassured her. His voice softened as a pair of guards walked by, leering at them for a second before walking away, chatting casually.

"You've been put in that position a lot, haven't you," Zora asked, closing her eyes.

"Yes. And the results haven't always been in my favor."

"You and me, big guy, you and me _both_."

* * *

><p>"Megatron has requested your presence," Starscream boomed. Zora cracked open her eyes, light flooding her vision. She felt Optimus slowly move his hand from over her, and she saw more light. Grabbing her jacket, which she had been using as a pillow, she stood slowly, legs acing.<p>

"What the heck….what time it?" Zora shielded her eyes as Starscream loomed over her. "I still need more sleep, man. You know that you can't just go waking people up like that. Humans especially."

"I _do _whatever I _please_," Starscream sneered, reaching down to grab Zora. Optimus loudly protested, but Starscream silenced him with a kick to the side. Starscream began walking down the hallway with Zora in his hand.

"Whatever. I thought that _Megatron_ was the big boss around here. It would suck for you if he found out that you were plotting a rebellion against him."

Zora didn't know that for sure, but she just assumed because of Starscream usual stubborn manner towards Megatron. She had seen it happen only twice since she had arrived at the base, and it had already been enough.

"I am _plotting_ nothing, femme," Starscream snarled, squeezing. Zora felt the air leave her lungs, and she was left flailing her legs, face paling. She tried to scream, but no sound came out.  
>"It hurts, doesn't it? That is what happens when you <em>talk back!<em>"

"Starscream! Release the human!" Barricade's voice bounced down the hallway. Through all the haze and confusion, Zora saw the mech rushing towards them. She tried to call out to him, but no sound came out of her mouth.

Suddenly, she could breathe again. She gulped in the damp air, relieved that Starscream was holding her lightly.

"Take her," Starscream thrust Zora forward, as if she were nothing but an annoying dog.

"Megatron has requested you as well." Barricade said, glancing at Zora and frowning in disgust. Zora bit her lip to keep from lashing out. Good thing because she knew that Starscream was on the verge of dropping her.

They walked, two mech's and one human, to Megatron's "impressive" throne room. The leader was waiting, and as soon as Starscream and Barricade entered the room, he plucked Zora right out of Starscream's hand and held her, talons digging into her ribs.

"Tell me, fleshling, what it _this_?" Megatron held up a talon. Zora squinted and saw the piece of metal, a small piece, looking as if it had been melted right off using some type of fire.

"Your finger. Don't get it too close. I don't know where its been."

Starscream snickered.

"Silence, you pit-spawned slagger." Megatron snapped.

"We went through this yesterday, Megs," Zora said conversationally, ignoring the way Barricade looked at her as if she was insane and Starscream grinned like a mad man. "I don't know why a Prime has invaded my body. I didn't ask for it, and I never would have. So there you have it."

Megatron tilted his head to the side a little, optics narrowing. "You are lying to me, fleshling. You have some sort of…._defense mechanism_, and you _know _it."

"Like what? The ability to piss just about anybody off? I've had that for a long time." Zora smirked. "Sort of like Mr. Screechy over there." Zora jerked her head towards Starscream, who shot her the nastiest look.

"Your life is in my hands, femme. I can kill you in a nanosecond," Megatron's voice had gotten deathly low, and he had two hands wrapped around Zora now. She could only flail her arms and send Megatron the rudest hand gestures she could think of.

"I don't have any….defense mechanism. I swear," Zora gasped as she felt her legs being crushed.

"Then _what, pray tell, _it _this_?" Megatron released one hand, the hand the with burn mark on it, and shoved it in Zora's face once again.

"_I don't know_!"

"_You lie_!"

Starscream cleared his throat. Both Megatron and Zora swiveled her hands to look at him.

"What!" they both shouted at the same time. Megatron glared, and squeezed Zora so hard that her vision went black and her head began to throb. It was a slow, agonizing process, but she was finally able to see Starscream approach Megatron.

"Sire, the female first demonstrated her…._ability_ when you grabbed her."

"Get to the point," Megatron growled.

"She was distressed. Afraid," Starscream reached out and stroked Zora's cheek with his finger. "Just as she should have been. It triggered some sort of….response."

"She responded to _panic_," Barricade said, simplifying Starscream's theory. He hadn't moved from his position by the door, and Zora wondered if he really wanted to be in the same room with Megatron and Starscream, and possibly a human with some serious powers.

"A good observation, _Starscream_," Megatron drawled. He turned to Barricade. "Go fetch the guards and tell them to bring the Autoscum. I think we have something to….settle."

"Your going to kill him aren't you." Zora's blood ran cold.

"That's the idea." Megatron, for once, answered her question directly, causing Zora to squirm. She wanted….needed….to get out of his grip. But what was the plan? Certainly not to rescue Prime. He would be dead, and it would be her fault.

No. She wouldn't let them.

Megatron let Starscream pin Zora, talons holding each hand and leg against the ground so she could only writhe and squirm. His talons dug into her palms, causing them to bleed and throb. Barricade hadn't even moved. Starscream stared down at her, his face a mask of glee. He was enjoying it.

He wouldn't be enjoying it in a second, though, because Zora was going to harm him before Megatron harmed Optimus. Rage boiled up inside her, a fire that tore through her whole body, burning every nerve. Rage so great that she wanted to run through the whole base, killing every Decepticon in sight. She would save Megatron for last.

All that rage flowed through her body and erupted out of her hands in a flash of brilliant green light. Her hands burned effortlessly through Starscream, causing him to bellow and rear up, knocking into Megatron, who had already readied his blaster.

Zora aimed, and fired her green light at Barricade, who was too stunned to do anything except for stand and stare. His shoulder armor burned away, and finally, his senses snapped back into action, and he ducked to the floor just as Megatron fired, and missed.

_BLAM!_

The next shot hit home, and Zora found herself laying on her back, hands back to normal and no longer blazing, brain unable to comprehend the situation. All she knew was that there was blood on her chest and that her fingers wouldn't work right.

The Primes. They had sent her a warning.

That was the last thing she thought before she spiraled down into darkness.


	20. Delirium

**Sort of a violent, dark chapter. Well, that's what you get when you read a horror based fanfiction. ;). Anyway, enjoy, and review. **

**I don't own it. Never have, never will.**

* * *

><p>The plague was escalating. It was obvious to Ratchet, just as it was obvious to the N.E.S.T human soldiers.<p>

Optimus Prime was gone. Maybe dead. As was Zora Parker, their newest human ally. It was chaos around the base, Autobot's and human's unsure of what to do. Already, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Arcee, Flare-up, and Chromia had been to Synapsis in search for anything that might lead them to Optimus. His signal had just disappeared off the charts randomly, and nobody had gotten any news regarding Zora.

Ratchet had to stay back at the base. Mostly to treat any human civilians and soldiers that had come down with the sickness. That, and he had to stay and research a cure that, no matter how many test subjects he had in the med bay, was never on the verge of finding. As a medic, he knew patience well, and that results didn't just come up immediately. However, this was something deathly serious. It was deathly serious to the human race, and deathly serious to the Cybertronian race as well.

Already, he had over a dozen deaths, over forty infestations, and no way to stop it.

"You really shouldn't be in here, Talent," Ratchet told Drake as he walked through the med bay doors.

"You hired me as an assistant. I kind of need to be in the med bay to be able to help," Drake said back, smirking and shoving his hands into his pocket. He stood by Ratchet's ankle and looked up at him. "I'm not a wuss like the other human doctors. They won't even come near this place."

"I never hired you as an assistant." Ratchet replied bitterly.

"Yeah, well. Lemme help you, anyway. Anything I need to be aware of, Ratch?"

"You can avoid catching the sickness by wearing gloves." Ratchet said gruffly. "And not letting yourself get bitten."

"Already done, doc," Drake said, taking his hands out of his pocket, smirking and wriggling his fingers, which were covered in a pair of thin plastic gloves. "I've heard what it can do, and I'm not taking any chances."

"Good boy."

"I'm not your boy," Drake muttered, then shrugged when Ratchet glared. Ratchet wasn't really as fond of Drake as most of the other Autobots. Maybe it was because he hadn't met many other civilians since the battle of Egypt. Maybe it was because Drake wasn't Sam. Ratchet would have preferred Sam over Drake anytime.

Ratchet glanced down at the humans, men and women of all ages, race, and sizes. They sat up, disoriented, not even able to make out the towering robot in front. Others were simply shivering and holding blankets around their bodies. Some were civilians, others were soldiers. They had been found by various Autobot's roaming around the streets, staggering around as if they were drunk. He hadn't been able to extract the bugs from any of his patients, and it left him even more anxious.

He still hadn't found the cure. The Decepticon's knew it, of course, but it wasn't as simple as anything else. If the Autobot's wanted to find it, then they would have to ask a Decepticon. Either that, or infiltrate their base, capture one of the few Decepticon medics, and hijack their processors and extract the formula for the cure. It was easier said than done, in Ratchet's opinion. He doubted that Optimus, wherever he was, had managed to find the cure, either.

"Um, Ratchet," Drake said suddenly, "I think we have a problem."

Ratchet turned, just in time.

_KKKKKrrrrrraaaaaaffffff_

_"Oh, no," _Drake practically sobbed. "Oh, no, no, no, no, _no_!"

A human male had fallen off the metal cot and was writhing around on the floor like a fish out of water. Blood poured out of his mouth and his ears and his nose. Ratchet's first instinct was to run scans on the man, but his processors told him that it was already too late, and that scans would do nothing.

"Drake, hold him down!" Ratchet commanded. Drake, hesitant, rushed over and grabbed the man by the arm, pinning him to the floor. He stared back up at Ratchet, face a mask of confusion and fear.

_KKKKKKrrrrraaaaaaaffffff!_

The cough was so loud that it sent Drake flying back. He slammed into Ratchet's foot and slid to the floor, dazed. The man tilted his head back, his spine snapping, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Another cough this time, one that shook the walls. Ratchet stood, unsure, unable to do anything but watch as the human coughed up his insides. Blood sprayed from his mouth, more of it trickling out of his ears and out of his eyes and out of his nose.

One bug was making its way out of the man, pushing from his shoulder, eating its way out. The man fell silent, finally, his main life organ ceasing its frantic beating.

Ratchet stared as Drake got to his feet, holding his head. He shook it, and stared at the bug that was making its way slowly towards Ratchet. The medic was able to reach out and tear it in half before it could inflict any damage on any of the other patients, all who looked even more delirious than before. He dropped the carcass, disgusted at the way it still writhed.

The Autobot sized door to the medical bay opened, and Ironhide rushed in, screeching to a halt when he saw the human and the bug, both all but dead.

He ducked his head a little. "Primus, help us all."

Ratchet nodded and looked down at Drake, who was tearing off his gloves. A single tear splattered onto the med bay floor.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ratchet demanded, desperately wanting to reach out and pick up the human. He thought better off it when the human spun and glared at him.

"_Away from here_," Drake replied.

"You cannot leave the base without an Autobot accompanying you," Ratchet snapped. Then, he shuddered his optics and sighed. He couldn't blame the boy if he wanted to get away from everything. Quite frankly, Ratchet did too. However, he was a medic, a medic with more than enough patients to treat.

Ironhide spoke up, his voice a low rumble. "Prime's orders."

Drake was almost out the door when he turned and gave Ironhide the same icy glare he had given Ratchet.

"Well, Ironhide, Prime isn't _here_."

Drake spun and walked out of the room.

* * *

><p>"You <em>killed<em> her?"

"Hm. You could say that."

Optimus sprang up, knee plates scraping against the stone floor. He managed to backhand Megatron across the face, sending him stumbling back. Optimus hopped to his feet and lunged, but he was weaker than Megatron, in both body and mind, and a few seconds later, he found himself pinned to the ground, talons wrapped around his throat. Megatron wouldn't hesitate, and Optimus knew it.

Optimus' beatings were usually quick, but today, Megatron seemed to have something else in store for him.

"The femme has no part in this war," Optimus grunted as Megatron dug a knee into his side, "You have made a grave mistake, Megatron."

Megatron smirked. An actual smirk that sent waves of anger coursing through Optimus' frame.

"You _misheard_ me, _Prime_," Megatron sneered, releasing his hold on Optimus and standing. One foot came down, kicking Optimus in the head. The Autobot leader grunted, but did not cry out. Did not scream, no matter how much he wanted too. He watched as Megatron continued to speak, each word coming out slow. "I never said the fleshling was offline. _However, _I am sure she wishes she were."

"Give her back."

"Oh, so you_ own_ her now? You _care_ for her?" Megatron sneered. "Don't tell me you harbor _particular _feeling for her?"

Optimus did not say anything. The truth was that he did not know _what _to say.

Megatron turned towards the door. "Starscream, bring me the femme."

Optimus waited, anxious, antsy. He tried to reassure himself that Zora was alive, probably not _well_, but alive. His last memory of her sweet voice still lingered in his processors, replaying repeatedly. It was what kept him sane while he was stuck in this hellhole. Zora had been his strength since coming to the Decepticon base. To say he was fond of her was an understatement, and Megatron seemed to have noticed it and was using it too his advantage.

Starscream was in the room, suddenly, with something laying in his palm. Something small, with a humanoid shape. A humanoid shape that Optimus knew, but was too afraid to identify.

"Ugh," Starscream nearly dropped Zora, "She's leaking disgusting human lubricants all over the place. Dispose of her quickly, _sire_, she is _not_ going to last long."

"We let her offline on her own, Starscream. If she lives, she may be of some use to us," Megatron responded. Starscream nodded, but shot his leader a look, not convinced.

Optimus shakily pulled himself upward so he sat on his knees. From here, he could see the human, bloody and dying, positioned on her back in Starscream's palm. Face covered in dirt, Zora looked like she had been dropped from a great height and had not survived the fall. A flimsy bandage covered her chest, and Optimus couldn't help but wincing when she coughed, sending small drops of blood trickling out of the corners of her mouth.

It made Optimus madder than he had ever been before, and he was fixing himself to pounce on Megatron.

"Go ahead, Prime, make your move, and watch as your precious pet human _dies_," Megatron snarled. He snatched Zora out of Starscream hand, holding her as if she were a rag doll. Long, metal talons dug into the wound in her chest, causing her to wheeze and cough.

"Megatron…." Optimus growled. "Release her."

Zora spoke before Megatron. Everyone in the room, including Megatron himself, went silent. Optics narrowing, Megatron held Zora up close to his face. Way too close, for Optimus.

"He doesn't like being told what too do," Zora's eyes were closed, and her head rolled back. She was delirious. A faint smile was on her lips. "He likes to be the one in control. He takes orders from _no one._"

Megatron snarled and squeezed Zora tighter. So tight that Zora coughed up a spray of blood that painted a large patch of Megatron's talons scarlet, but Zora still spoke, even though her words were barely a whisper.

"No one, except for The Fallen."

Megatron reeled back, loosening his hold on Zora. He made no attempt, no lunge forward as Zora slid past his fingers, falling. Optimus made a move and dove, sliding across the floor, letting Zora land safely on one of his padded hands. He looked up just as Megatron reached down and tore Zora from his grasp, holding her upside down by her legs, letting her flimsy bandage hang lose. Her eyes fluttered open; she stared at Optimus for a moment, her mind somewhere far away. Then, she went still.

"Give her too me," Optimus said firmly, standing too his full height, only to be knocked back down again by a swift kick from Megatron.

"Or what, Prime. You forget that you are in the middle of _my _base, surrounded by _my _soldiers who would be more than happy to beat you all the way down into the Pit? Honestly, _brother, _I thought that you had high-quality intellect."

Optimus settled for the nastiest glare he could muster. Megatron was right, though, that threats were useless. He had taken on multiple Decepticons before, and had paid the price, but could he really hold his own against a Decepticon _army. _Such thinking was outrageous. Not to mention he would be holding a half dead human while he was at it.

Megatron used his free hand to backhand Optimus so hard that his head snapped back. He hit the floor, hard. He spat out a few pieces of broken metal before trying to stand once again.

"So _stubborn_. That kind of thinking is what got you killed."

"I can say the same thing to _you_, brother."

Megatron's hand was a blur. Optimus ducked, but was too slow. Megatron's fist clipped him in the cheek, sending him tumbling backwards into a hard, stone wall. The noise of metal scraping against stone was deafening. Rock rained down on Optimus' head as he watched Megatron saunter over to him, Zora still in his grasp.

"_I'll _keep the female. She is no use to you, Prime. She is not your…..comfort object. She belongs to me now."

Optimus groaned, and Megatron gestured to the two Decepticon's standing guard by the door.

"Take him. Tear him apart, but leave him alive. I want to be the one to offline him," Megatron snarled. Then, he glanced back at Optimus, saw the fight drain out of his optic. He addressed the guards again this time, his words filled with a cold malice. "Oh, and make it _hurt _this time."


	21. Caged

Cold. Her whole body was cold. Right down to every muscle, bone, cell, and molecule. She could barely think straight because of it, it was the only thing on her mind at the moment. That was why she barely heard Megatron's harsh voice when asked her questions, heard the sound of his talons scraping against the cage she was being held captive in.

A caged bird. That was what she was.

She rolled over pressing her head against the hard surface of the cage, curling up into a ball, closing her eyes and praying. She had never really been a religious person, but it seemed praying to someone, or something, helped.

For a second, she thought of Optimus. She missed him. The pain of not having him near was almost as agonizing as the bloody hole in her chest. Once again, she had heard the screams, had heard the sound of him being beaten. Over time, the screams had dulled down into nothing. No shouts. Just a few grunts and moans that echoed through the whole base.

Voices. Someone, or something, was speaking too her. Zora's eyes fluttered open, and she felt the urge to snap them shut when she saw a pair of crimson optics hovering just behind the bars of the cage.

"…..humans are so pathetically _fragile_," Megatron was saying. "Although, you _have _lasted longer than any of my previous human pets."

"Good for me," Zora croaked. "Where's my award?"

Megatron swatted at the hanging cage. Hard. Zora was thrown from her position on the cage floor, slamming against the bars. She was rocking back and forth, and once again, blood seeping from between her fingers.

"You never learn, do you, my pet?" Megatron growled. "You lack the proper _discipline_."

Zora didn't answer. Suddenly, her whole body felt heavy. Her eyelids drooped, and she felt the blackness consuming her mind, engulfing her consciousness.

She snapped back into reality, and saw Megatron staring, optics narrowed.

"Pathetic," he muttered. "The Primes, apparently, have not gifted you the slightest."

Zora said the first word that popped into her mind.

"Asshole."

Megatron smirked, his talons reaching out to open the cage. She heard the click as the lock was turned, his fingers reaching through to grab her. She scooted into a corner, covering herself, giving Megatron a nasty glare, for it was the only defense she had. Moreover, it was a fruitless attempt, Zora admitted to herself.

"Come here, fleshling. I am not going to hurt you. _Yet_," Megatron cooed.

Talons gripped Zora's exposed ankle. Megatron pulled, hard, and Zora found herself tumbling onto Megatron's palm. The Decepticon leader analyzed her for a moment, making Zora even more uncomfortable than before. The wound in her chest throbbed, and her legs ached to the point where she could not stand.

"Such as shame. You are on the brink of death, and you know it," Megatron said. Zora, panting, put a hand over her chest, pulled it away, and cringed when she saw the blood covering her fingertips. Megatron was right.

"Only because _you_ are the one who shot me," Zora pointed out, coughing. Megatron snarled and wrapped his talons around her waist, letting her legs dangle. He lifted her up so he could look her in the eyes. His optics glowed, a demonic red that reminded Zora so much of the bug's eyes.

"Self defense, fleshling. I had no choice."

"And you're glad you did it?"

"Frankly, yes. It stopped your…._rampage_."

Zora smirked. "Oh, yeah, I forgot to ask. How's Barricade's shoulder. I burned it off pretty good."

Zora braced herself, but Megatron did not squeeze. He just tilted his head to the side, optics focusing on one of Zora's legs. He brought up a claw, almost gingerly touching it against Zora leg.

"You _wouldn't_," Zora growled.

"I _would_," Megatron replied, not bothering to hide the sadistic edge in his voice. Growling, he pressed the talon against Zora's thigh, dragging it downwards, wincing when the blood splattered onto his talons.

Zora screamed. Screamed so loud that it bounced off the walls.

Megatron laughed. "What happened to all that power, _fleshling_? Have the Primes finally deemed you unworthy to hold such power?"

Zora grunted, trying to come up with a response. She feebly spat out a few rude words, unable to come up with anything else. Behind all the haze and pain, she heard Megatron's cruel laughter. She wriggled her fingers, trying to produce more of the burning light, something, that would shut the tyrant up. Nothing. The pain kept blocking her concentration.

"Go ahead. Burn me," Megatron's voice had become deathly quiet. It felt like he was whispering right in Zora's ear. "However, you and Prime will pay the price."

"You sick piece of crap…." Zora snarled, doing her best to shut out the burning agony in her leg. She couldn't look down. Didn't want to look down. She was afraid to see the damage.

"_Go ahead_…." He urged. "Then I can tell Prime that his precious little human practically _condemned _him to _death_."

"No. Not him," Zora groaned. "Please, don't."

"You wish for him to live longer?"

"Yes." Zora said quickly.

"Why is that?"

Zora bit her lip. She spat out a glob of blood, watched it hit one of Megatron's talons. The Decepticon leader did not flinch, did not punish her for getting her "disgusting human lubricants" all over his glorious metal. In fact, he was far more focused on Zora's answer than anything else at the moment.

"Because…." Zora started, and then stopped. Why had she wanted Optimus to live? She cared for him, just as much as she cared for her. Did she think of him as more than a friend….?

She did. But Megatron didn't need to know that.

"Answer me, femme," Megatron squeezed, hard, and Zora heard the unmistakable sound of ribs cracking. Her breathing was labored.

"I can't answer if you crush me," Zora wheezed. "Dead people don't talk."

Megatron sighed and knelt down, letting her drop to the ground. Immediately, her bleeding leg gave out, and she hit the floor, cheek scraping painfully against the stone.

"Stand."

"I can't."

"You can, and you _will. _Unless you want to prove your species weaker than they already are."

Zora gulped and felt her chest again. Blood. She felt her leg. More blood. She would die of blood loss, certainly.

"I said _stand._"

"I'm standing," Zora responded. She got to her hands and knees, shakily getting to her feet, crying out when her knees buckled and she felt herself falling once more.

"I-I can't," she sobbed. Already, she was crying. Tears streaked down her dirt covered face. Tears that Megatron failed to acknowledge. Of course, monsters like him never cried. They had been robbed of any emotions long ago.

"Very well."

"Don't kill me."

"Who said I was going to kill you?"

"The w-way you said it….m-made it sound like y-you were i-implying it."

Suddenly, something slammed into Zora so hard that it flipped her over onto her back. The world was a blur, the only colors being the red of Megatron's optics and the red of her own blood. It filled her vision, it was all over her arms and legs and face. She could no longer see Megatron, she could no longer hear anything but her own screaming.

Except for Megatron's distant chuckling.

* * *

><p>Sam found Drake by the beach. He wasn't alone, a tall, blonde girl with red streaks in her hair stood beside him. Bumblebee pulled over a little ways away, letting Sam out before he transformed. Drake and the girl both turned their heads.<p>

"Um, hi," Sam said as he approached the talking duo. The girl, who looked surprisingly like Zora in the face, smiled. "I haven't seen you around."

"I bet you have," Drake mumbled. "Really, Sam?"

Sam shook his head, and then rubbed his eyes. The girl tilted her head to the side.

"Arcee?"

Drake shot him a "no freaking duh" look, but did not say a word. He was agitated, from what Sam could tell. Scratching his head every five seconds, shuffling nervously, fiddling with his thumbs. At first, Sam thought it was because he was in the presence of Arcee, one of the few Bot's that Drake had met and talked too. Maybe it was because of Zora. Or both.

"Hello, Sam," Arcee said, smiling and showing pure white teeth. Her holoform looked a few years older than Sam did, tall, with sparkling blue eyes. Sam had never seen her holoform before, and wondered if Ratchet had just helped her design it.

"Apparently, two wheels' over here is my '_Guardian_.'" Drake snorted. "As if I can't take care of myself."

Sam shot Arcee an apologetic look. He didn't know how long she had known Drake, but her facial expression spoke volumes about how much she enjoyed him. She shrugged and glanced towards Bumblebee, who was sitting down, picking up handfuls of sand before letting it drop. Each time, he sent up a billowing cloud of sand.

"I should leave you two alone," Arcee nodded her head towards Bumblebee. "I'll be over here with Bee if you need me."

With that, Arcee's holoform fizzled out of existence. Sam heard a thud, and saw her true self, in bipedal mode, approach Bumblebee.

"Who assigned Arcee too you?" Sam asked. Drake took his hands out of his pocket and shrugged.

"Nobody, really. She sort of…took over. Fine with me."

Sam shot him a quizzical look. "Really?"

"Nope," he kicked a rock, watching it bounce across the sand. Then, he glanced at Bumblebee and Arcee. "Not that I don't like her. I do. She's real sweet and all, for an alien."

"She's one of the few accessible Autobots. Ironhide is already with the Lennox's. Ratchet and Jolt are both in the med bay twenty-four hours a day. Like Sunstreaker, or even _Sideswipe_,would willingly become anyone's guardian. Optimus…." Sam trailed off and bit his lip. "If Optimus were to come back, which I'm sure he will, he would probably take Zora as his guardian."

Drake glared and huffed, kicking at another rock.

"Just an assumption," Sam said quickly. "I know that you don't like Optimus…"

"I don't like him and Zora together."

"Right. So you don't like him and Zora together," Sam exhaled sharply and turned his head to look at Drake. "But you shouldn't let your feelings get in the way of Zora's safety."

"What are you? Dr. Phil?" Drake spat, "Why the hell do you assume that I don't care what happens to Zora? She's my best friend!"

Sam sighed. Stubborn, as always. "I'm just saying…."

"Just saying _what_, _Sam," _Drake snarled. "Look, I didn't ask to be thrown into this whole alien thing. Neither did Zora. I wouldn't _abandon_ her, just like that."

"Okay, so you care about her," Sam said loudly. Both Bumblebee and Arcee turned, shooting Sam concerned glances. Sam waved them off, more focused on Drake. Sam could see the envy on his face when he spoke of Zora and Optimus together. It reminded him of when he had first seen Mikaela at school. Beautiful, smart, Mikaela with a jock for a boyfriend. It had filled him with envy.

However, that was then, and this was now. Sam had _felt_ envy before he had _seen_ giant alien robots. His opinion on many things had changed since then, and Sam was still trying to figure out if it was for the better, or for the worse. Drake was letting his feeling blind him, and at this point, that could have drastic consequences.

Sam noticed Drake's silence. He kept glancing at Bumblebee and Arcee, who had turned their backs to the two teens. "I mean, it's not like Optimus would actually_ fall_ for Zora," Sam gave a nervous laugh. "C'mon. Completely different species. Could you really see that happening?"

"_Yeah_," Drake said. "He stares at her, as if _species _doesn't matter. He likes her. A lot."

"So? That's his problem." Sam shrugged. He knew it was a rude thing to say, but oh well. Anything to change the topic. He really didn't want to discuss feeling with Drake.

"I just can't imagine Zora with an _alien_," Drake shook his head in disgust.

"Neither can I, Drake," Sam sucked in a breath. "But we should worry about that when they get back."

"If they get back," Drake said. Once again, he had his hands in his pocket. He stared out at the blue ocean, and smiled. "Oops. My bad. I should rephrase that. _When_ they get back."


	22. Crashed

Optimus lay in his cell, beaten, defeated. Megatron would surely offline him soon. Sooner than Prime had expected.

He suddenly thought of one particular human femme. One that had invade his thoughts recently with her flaming red hair and snarky attitude. She was gorgeous for a human femme. If she had been Cybertronian, Optimus doubted she would have been able to go a day without getting hounded by mechs. It was an odd thing for Prime, really. Thinking that a human was beautiful. If any of the Autobot's found out, he would get a stern talking to. Particularly from a certain medic.

Still. That didn't guarantee that he would..."fall for her,"as the humans put it. He was a leader. Not a lover to a human girl. He could not give her what other humans could. True pleasure. Children. Not that he needed any of those things to survive. Billions of years of war had taught him patience and gratitude, but it had also changed him into something else. Something that he was sure Zora would find a little less appealing.

He was a monster in her eyes, surely. Just as bad as the ones that frightened little sparkling humans at night.

Optimus groaned and rested his head against the wall. He was getting a little too ahead of himself. He needed to worry about getting out of the Decepticon base, first. Relationship issues came later.

* * *

><p>Empty. Zora surveyed Megatron's magnificent throne room and noted that it was empty. Megatron himself having left her in her cage, bleeding, cursing. She sat in her cage, hugging her knees, back digging painfully into the bars of the cage. Megatron sure did know how to make a human comfortable. Zora didn't know where he had run off too, but she sure hoped it didn't have anything to do with a certain red and blue Autobot.<p>

She wanted to speak to him. Wanted to run her fingers over his armor. Wanted to feel that strange tingling feeling that started at her toes and traveled all the way up to her brain when she looked into his optics.

She wanted to feel alive.

"My, my," a voice chuckled. "How's it _hanging_, Nemesis?"

"Fuck off, you giant metal Dorito," Zora snarled. Starscream could be even more annoying - and terryfiying - than Megatron, at times. Just looking into his optics filled her with an unknown terror.

_Right. Channel your inner bitch._

She did. She tilted her head to the side and stared at Starscream, dead on, smirking.

"You know...when I look at you, only two words come to mind. _Psychotic_ and a bit _mental_," Zora tapped a finger to her chin. Then, her eyes went wide. "If I had to add a third one..._goofy. _Just plain _goofy._"

Starscream gave her a glare that could curl cheese right then and there. Zora sank further back into her cage, and for the first time, cursed Drake's twisted logic.

"A smart mouth will only cause you more pain, fleshling," Starscream crowed, a if Zora were a child in need of scolding by a teacher. Zora cringed and shove a lock of hair out of her eyes, trying to shut out an oncoming migraine. It was one of the many agonies she had endured in the past few days.

"I have a name, you know." Zora snapped, coughing.

"Ah. Yes. Nemesis."

Zora rolled her eyes. "My _human _name," she said, exasperated. Then, she added in a quick, "dumbass."

"Your human name is irrelevant," Starscream said, coming to stand closer to the teetering cage. Zora gulped and pressed her back against the bars even harder, not bothering when they dug into her back. She wanted Starscrea gone, fast.

"Says who?"

"Says Megatron. Says myself," Starscream paused. "I'm surprised Megatron had allowed you to keep your original name."

"What? Does _Nemesis_ not appeal to him?" Zora snarled. "And when have you ever given donkeys ass about what _Megatron _says? I thought you were all 'oooh, Megatron is _bad. _I, Starscream, will be the supreme ruler of all Decepticons!"

Starscream stared, and then made a noise of utter disgust.

"No wonder Megatron has plans to terminate you," Starscream shook his helm. "At first, you proved to be worthy to hold the position of Megatron's precious pet. Now, you are just a waste of space."

"I'm sure its every girls dream to be Megatron's pet," Zora sneered. "Do you guys hold, like, auditions or something because I don't ever remember signing up."

Starscream roared suddenly, having gone from dangerously patient to complete lunacy in a blink of an eye. The cage was thrown to the side, and Zora slammed into the once-comforting bars. Already, Starscream was opening the cage, clawed finger reaching in. They wrapped around her waist, and Zora felt him squeeze.

"You _worthless_ sack of flesh! Megatron should have disposed of you long ago! As usual, he wasted his time!"

He was crushing her. Squeezing the air out of her lungs for real, this time. This time, he was going to kill her. This time...

Air. Fresh, glorious air.

_CRASH!_

"N-No, m-my l-lord!" Starscream howled. "T-Th f- femme...I-I as just teaching the little rat a l-lesson!"

"_I _shall be the one to punish her, Starscream. No one else," Megatron dug his talons into the seams of Starscreams armor, pulled, snarling. Starscream nodded and Megatron released him. "And what are you doing in here, anyway? I have not _summoned_ you?"

Starscream stared.

Megatron stared back.

Then, Starscream cried out and fled from the room as fast as he could, sliding across the stone floor.

Zora sat in her cage, still huddled in the back. The Decepticon leader sat back down in his throne, sighing and shaking his head. He paid Zora little mind when she moved from her slouched position in the corner to come grip the bars. She didn't dare open her mouth.

"Just got ahead and do what Starscream was about to do," she said sullenly. Like Megatron would notice and give her a nice, warm hug. She actually needed that right now. Optimus, maybe? He was so warm...so comforting.

"Silence. You irritate me."

Well, he told it as it was. Zora sank back, clutching her bloody chest and trying not to heave. Her leg was a wreck. She, too, was a wreck, and she didn't think she could do anything about it. Already, the cage floor was stained with crimson, and even thought she had tried to put as much pressure on both wounds, she didn't think it would do her any good...

"Whatever." Zora said to no one in particular. She glanced at Megatron, whose optics were narrowed in her direction.

"How does it feel to have a Prime inhabiting your miserable body?"

"I thought that I irritated you?"

"Answer the question."

"I don't feel anything," Zora admitted. While Megatron didn't look too convinced, Zora knew that it was the truth. "Zip. Nada."

"You do not feel the power at your fingertips?"

"Nope."

Megatron looked away. "Pathetic. You have no control."

"Pretty much," Zora saw that Megatron was looking away, and quickly, she gave him the middle-finger salute. She so desperately wanted to get out of here. She would have sold her soul for a ticket out of the stone hell. "Thats what being human is pretty much all about."

* * *

><p>Zora's release came in the form of an explosion.<p>

She was jolted awake. She jumped up, crying out when she banged her head on the top of the cage. Her back screamed in protest as she crawled towards the bars, noticing right away that Megatron was absent. Zora could are less where he had run off too at the time, for she was seeing something far more interesting.

A Decepticon guard slammed through the closed door. He skidded across the stone, bounced once, then twice, before coming to rest under Zora's cage. The human peered down at the guard, watching as it got to its feet, only to be knocked back down when its head was removed from its shoulders by blast from Optimus Prime himself.

Her red and blue warrior. Her heart was so full of joy that she thought it might burst.

Another explosion shook the walls. Dirt rained down from the ceiling, and Zora had to cover her head with her hands when the cage rocked back and forth, its chain threatening to snap.

Strong, warm fingers curled around Zora's waist. She didn't fight it, just let Optimus lift her from her cage and set her on the ground. Immediately, her knees buckled and she fell to the floor. Fresh waves of pain shot up her legs, and her chest felt unnaturally heavy.

"You are even more damaged than I had though," Optimus said gravely. He knelt down beside Zora' flinching when another explosion shook the whole base

Zora peered up at him. "N.E.S.T's doing, I presume?" She winced as another explosion caused her cage to snap and crash to the ground. Even Megatron's massive throne shook. "Wow, they give the term 'bringing the house down,' a whole new meaning."

"We must get going. The others are waiting," Optimus said. He looked down at Zora, who was trying to shut out the pain. Trying her best to push it away...to...to...ignore it. She couldn't shut off certain parts of her nerves like a Cybertronian could. She wasn't one of them, with all the fancy gadget. So far, she hadn't proven herself in a fight.

Except for the fight with the bugs. But that didn't count, in Zora' opinion.

She did have _one _trick up her sleeve. She doubted it would work. The last time she had used it, she ha been boiling with anger. Super mad, uncontrollable. She had almost killed Barricade, which was nothing for her to be ashamed of, but she had also managed to get a bullet lodged in her chest. She didn't want a rerun of that, not now, not _ever_.

"Zora, please, can you walk?" Optimus pressed. Zora snorted and leaned on one of Optimus' legs for support. The boss bot' actually let her take her time.

"B-Barely," Zora looked up at him with her large, dark eyes. She saw his optics visibly soften.

"I cannot carry you, Zora," Prime said, wobbling when another tremor shook the ground. He stumbled, and Zora finally realized that he was as weak as her. In body, of course. His mind was still determined. That was one of the things she liked about Optimus Prime. He never quit. Never gave up.

In fact, now that she though about it, she didn't just like it. She loved it.

Zora hobble behind Optimus, out into the hallway, away from that wretched cage. Zora flattened herself against the wall as Optimus sliced through guard after Decepticon guard, his speed and agility surprising Zora, for he was such a huge being.

Zora leaned against his leg as he stood still, panting from the physical exertion.

"Going somewhere, Prime?"

Dread. Absolute dread hung over Zora as she slowly turned around to stare into the bright red optics of Air Commander Starscream. Optimus brandished his weapon, and quite bravely, Zora raised her hands, palms out, an imitation of when she had first used her power. Starscream cocked his head to the side and grinned. Several more Decepticons were approaching from behind him, each as bloodthirsty as the rest. Zora could have sworn she saw Barricade among them.

She glared at Starscream.

"We meet again, Obi-Wan," she said to him, raising her hands even higher. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Optimus give her something akin to a smile."Let's rumble."


	23. Escape

"Stand and fight, _Optimus_," Starscream sneered, advancing towards Zora and Optimus. "Do not waste your time trying to protect the human."

"Yeah, cause' I can take care of myself," Zora snarled back. For the hundredth time she wondered if she had finally, truly lost her mind. She was challenging a creature a hundred times her size. It was mad. It was _stupid. _Not to mention, Optimus had not said a word, and Zora knew he would be the one doing all the fighting. Zora would be the one running and screaming and constantly having to have her ass saved by the leader of the Autobots.

Or would he? Zora quickly yanked her hands down, turning them over, staring at the seemingly normal palm. How had she summoned the light earlier? Willpower? A secret chant or something...everything from then was vague, like a hole in her memory. She knew there had been pain. Far too much pain. And screaming, yes, lots of screaming. Coming from her own mouth.

Oh, now she remembered. _Fear_ had caused a reaction. Fear and anguish had been the ones responsible for her sudden outburst.

Or maybe it had been herself? She _had_ been the one allowing herself to feel fear.

Zora looked up just in time to see Optimus practically leap into the air, shouldering Starscream, causing the larger mech to stumble. Zora dove out of the way just as Starscream brought his foot down where Zora was standing, a lame attempt at trying to turn her into goo. Zora hit the wall, rebounded off, and shrieked when she saw Starscream's talons reach towards her small, vulnerable body.

Zora scrambled to the side once again, letting his talons clasp around air.

"Try again, Screamer!" Zora hollered. Starscream swiveled his head to snarl at her, but yelped when his head snapped back from a blow from Optimus.

"Do not bait me, fleshling!" Starscream screeched. He yelped when he was knocked against the wall again, by Optimus.

"Run!" Optimus yelled.

"Running!" Zora shouted back, taking off, long strides carrying her down the hallway. Smoke hung in the air, alarms blared, bathing everything around her in red. She could hear Optimus' loud grunts as he fought, but Starscream's raspy shout was the loudest.

"Get her! Wound her, but do not kill her!"

He was being kind and giving Megatron the honors, Zora presumed. Such the gentlemen.

She didn't stop running. Didn't stop when some random Decepticon yelled and fired at her, turning the ground behind her into a smoking crater. Didn't stop when her wounded leg began to ache and her brain screamed at her to stop, to slow down. Her lungs felt like they were about to burst when she finally skidded to a halt, peering around a corner, seeing nothing but stone and smoke and red.

Heavy footsteps caused her to fall to her knees. She looked up and cried out in alarm.

"_There _you are_-"_

_BAM!_

The Decepticon dropped to the ground, its head rolling across the floor in front of Zora. She stared as Optimus shoved the rest of the body to the side, not even flinching when it slammed into the hard stone ground_, _sending sparks flying in every direction. Zora slid down the wall, letting out a breath as Optimus knelt in front of her, warmth radiating off his whole frame.

"Are you injured?"

"Just my pride," Zora mumbled to herself, getting to her feet. She sighed and shook her head when Optimus shot her a quizzical look. "N-No, really, I'm okay."

"I thought I told you to _run_." He said, putting just enough ice in his tone to cause Zora, and anyone for that matter, to cringe.

"Yeah, well," Zora scratched her head, squinting to see through the smoke and haze. "When you tell me stuff...Its a fifty-fifty that I might actually listen."

"Here," Optimus grunted, holding out a hand. "Would you allow me to..."

"Just don't squeeze," Zora whispered, already relaxing her aching limbs as he wrapped his warm fingers around her waist, lifting her up into the air with gentleness than any Decepticon could ever execute. He was so...warm. Maybe the heat was coming from his strangely padded palms? Whatever it was, Zora liked it. Liked it a little _too _much.

A few moments later, she found herself holding on for dear life as Optimus began to run, each footstep causing Zora whole frame to vibrate. She clutched what she assumed was his thumb as he rounded a corner, barreling past two Decepticon drones. He spun and backhanded one before lashing out at the other, kicking it, stabbing it with his sword, which had appeared on his free hand. Everything was a blur to Zora, for Optimus had moved so fast.

She clamped her eyes shut so she was only able to hear the shouts of the Decepticon guards, hear the screech of metal being torn away from its moorings. She heard a grunt as Optimus took a feeble kick to the chest, sending him stumbling back. Then, another shout, another clang.

Silence.

She opened them and saw the two Decepticons on the ground, two smoking scraps of metal that were no longer identifiable as Cybertronians.

"Sweet," Zora whispered as Optimus began moving again.

"Far from sweet, Zora."

"Right," Zora said uncomfortably. Optimus sighed.

He thundered on with Zora still clutched firmly in his hands. As he turned a corner, he suddenly skidded to a halt, flattening himself against the wall in a vain attempt at trying to hide himself. Zora exhaled sharply when she heard the sound of clicking mandibles and the shuffling of feet.

Something wet clipped the corner of the wall, missing Optimus by inches. Zora shrieked - she couldn't hold it in - as a bug practically jumped Optimus, legs thrashing wildly, tongue wrapping around his neck and his face. He stumbled back, his hold on Zora loosening. Then, he fell to his knees, bug still climbing all over his face, and flung Zora across the floor.

It was like going down a slide. A very _uncomfortable_ slide. Stone bit into the back of her legs, sharp, but not enough to draw blood. Her head kept bouncing up and down, up and down as she slid. Her ears popped. Air made her hair fly back.

Finally, she came to a stop. Her leg throbbed. Her head pounded. She rolled over onto her stomach and saw Optimus, roaring like an animal, clawing at the bug attached to his face. It seemed hell-bent on not letting the Prime go, and it filled Zora with dread. If he somehow died...or was somehow infected...it would be over. All over.

She raised her hands, palms out. But she did not fire. She would miss, she knew. She didn't want to risk hurting Optimus.

Something wet slapped against her leg. She looked down and saw long, barbed tongue attach itself to her ankle.

The bug behind her yanked, dragging Zora closer and closer to its clicking mandibles.

"_Prime!_" She screamed, "a little support!"

But her warrior was busy with his own bug, which had been able to get the upper hand. It had forced him back down to his knees. His head turned and he stared at Zora, alarmed, but had to turn away when his bug wrapped its tongue tighter around his throat. Zora cursed and grabbed the bug's tongue, beating it with her fist before downright ripping the it in half. It broke, the sound like snapping elastic.

One half still clung to her leg, writhing around, moving, like a python. The other half was a black stump in the bugs mouth.

The bug reared back, and came at Zora just as she was getting to her feet. Its mouth was open in a mock imitation of a smile.

I lunged towards her, remarkably fast.

She knew what she had to do, and she didn't like it.

She snarled and leaped into the bugs open mouth. Head and shoulders made it in, and the bugs throat constricting, like rubber, crushing her lungs and ribs. Her eyes were closed and the smell was revolting, a combination of rotting flesh and seaweed. It took everything in Zora's power not to upchuck right then and there.

Groaning, she pulled a leg through. Something sharp grazed her legs, and for a moment she thought it was a tooth.

The bug wasn't trying to chop her to bits yet. No. It was just reacting. Choking. She pulled another leg into the pulsating throat. She tried to find something to grab onto, and she found a piece of jagged metal that sliced through her hand when she touched it. As a matter of fact, she could feel more metal as she searched around. Long, sharp pieces that cut through her clothing and skin, drawing blood, but not pain.

She shut out the pain and tried to focus on what she was doing.

Whatever that was.

One hand reached out. She focused everything, all the hate, and the pain of Optimus being hurt...the loathing, the pity...and let it all flow out through her hands.

She didn't see the light because her eyes were squeezed shut. But she felt the shudder that passed through the bugs body. In seconds, everything went from wet and squishy to sickeningly hot. She could feel her skin burning. Not from her own killing heat, but from whatever ammonia was inside the bug.

She had to stop or she would kill herself.

No!_ Don't_ focus on the heat and the pain: Fire!

She laced her fingers together; eyes shut so tightly that she saw flashed of red. She heard the bug scream as its insides were cooked, screamed as its insides bled and burned. The bug raced in mad panic, unable to find a way to expel Zora from its body.

She pushed and pushed, legs kicking madly, head spinning from the lack of oxygen, body screaming at her to slow down. The heat was unbearable, but she kept at it, determined to use whatever energy she had left to break free, and hopefully keep fueling her own killing light.

Air!

She breathed, and then vomited all over the floor.

Optimus stood over her, a horrified expression having transformed his facial features. Zora stood before him, covered head to toe in bug guts. She peered up at the Autobot leader and ran the back of her hand across her eyes, wiping off a little of the guts.

"I hope you saw that, man," Zora breathed as she wiped her hands on her sticky shirt covered with bits and pieces of bug flesh and goo. "Because I will _never_ be doing it again."

Before Optimus could answer, or even say a word for that matter, both he and Zora were blown across the hallway. The stone walls exploded inward, sending huge chunks of rock raining down on Zora and Optimus. Alarms blared to life again, and Zora covered her head with her hands and another explosion sounded, closer this time, the wave pushing Zora a few feet. She hit the wall, rolled over, and raised her hands, palms out.

She brought her hands to her side when she saw the hulking silhouette of Ironhide standing outside the hole in the wall. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker peered over his shoulder. Zora beamed, something she had not done in a while. Something she had been wanting to do for a while.

"It's about time, isn't it?" The large mech rumbled. "C'mon. Let's get you two the frag out of here."

* * *

><p><strong>I know, not a very romantic chapter. We'll be getting to that soon. And by soon I mean the next few chapters. <strong>

**Hah. Zora owned this chap...I think.**


	24. Power

Three weeks went by, and Zora had not spoken to him. Three weeks of loneliness and pain.

Optimus told himself that he was being unreasonable. Told himself that she probably wanted some alone time, for it seemed with some humans that isolating yourself from others would help heal the wounds of the past, or something along the lines of that. No wonder she wanted to be away from him. She had watched him be beaten, stabbed. Had watched him sink into a type of depression.

Optimus had once been told that he had a strong spark. He wondered if Zora agreed. He sure didn't.

He went to find her. At first, he thought better of it. But then, he shooed the thought away. If she told him to scram, then he would do so. It was likely that she would want to be alone. But it didn't hurt to try.

She was by the beach, in the little lagoon area that most of the Autobots enjoyed hanging out in so often. It was nestled right by the base, so close that no Decepticon's would be stupid enough to come close to it. It was the perfect place if you wanted to be alone. Optimus himself came there quite often, when the stress had finally gotten to his processors. He had just laid back and enjoyed the sound of gentle waves.

She was hollering to no one in particular. Hollering as she held her hands out in front of her, palms out, twin beams of brilliant green light erupting from her palms and burning away at the stone cliff in front of her.

Insane.

Impossible.

Humans did not have that type of power. _Cybertronians_ did not have that type of power. It was unrealistic. An illusion. Optimus slowly pulled his alt mode up a little ways behind her, killing the engine, not even bothering to transform. He was observing.

Then why wasn't Optimus as surprised as he had thought he would be? He stood in alt mode behind her, but she did not turn around. Just kept blasting away at the cliff.

"Burn, you son of a bitch! BURN!" She screamed. Her face was pulled into a grimace as she laced her fingers together, combining both lights together to form a single beam that blew a hole in the cliff. Molten rock dripped onto the dry sand.

Optimus couldn't stand it. He could almost feel the regret, the pain, the fear….everything, radiating off her body.

"Zora, stop."

She didn't hear him. Either that, or chose not to listen.

"Zora, please," he was begging now. "_Stop_."

She kept going. Optimus activated his holoform and approached her, pressing his chest against her back, arms reaching around, hand snaking down her outstretched arm, coming to grasp her wrist. He felt her tense, and then relax when she realized who it was.

The light ceased immediately. Zora dropped her hands to her side, sniffing. She was crying, small tears trickling down her cheek. Subconsciously, Optimus reached around and wiped them away with his thumb.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled. "I-I got a little carried away...my bad."

"It's alright," Optimus rested his chin on the top of her head, taking in her sweet scent. Intoxicating, now that all the bug guts had been removed. Sweet. He loved it more than high-grade energon. He loved it more than anything else on the planet, and it didn't matter that she was an organic.

He loved _her._

The realization hit him like a punch in the chassis. He cleared his throat and stepped away, watching as she turned and crossed her arms, letting out a content sigh. Her dark eyes flickered to him, then back down to the sand.

"I suppose you want to know how I did it?"

It took a moment for the Prime to recover. He nodded, stepping towards her, almost tripping when she smiled, showing brilliant white teeth. Primus, she was just so _beautiful. _There was no reason for him _not_ to love her. But she was human, and..._complications_.

"The Primes," she said sullenly, "They...um...spoke to me. In a dream, of course."

Optimus stared. Then, he opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"The Primes? The _ancient_ Primes? They spoke to you _directly_?" He stuttered.

"Yeah. They even gave me an evil-sounding nickname," Zora shrugged ad went to sit on a large rock just beside the cliff. As she walked, Optimus noticed the slight limp she had. The effects of Megatron, he assumed. He tore his gaze up to Zora's face as she continued. "Nemesis."

"Nemesis?"

"Yeah. Supposedly a Prime has decided to move into my body. I guess he brought his psychic powers with him...er...her. I dunno which one."

"You chose not to converse with _me_ about this?" Optimus said slowly. "Even though it posed a potential threat to yourself?"

"I didn't know I was going to turn into some type of freak show!" She snapped, squeezing her eyes shut, opening them, and shaking her head. "Sorry. I mean, they didn't exactly give me a heads up about _this_," She held out her hands, turning them over examining them as if they would give her the answers.

"The dreams?" Optimus said, trying his best not to push her too far.

"Oh, yeah. Well..." Zora bit her lip. "Nothing but a bunch of 'its your _destiny_' yada yada 'you were _chosen_' blah blah blah."

"It _is _your destiny. If the Prime's say it, then it is true," Optimus said, gazing out at the ocean. "And I say that because I _believe_ in you."

"Right." Zora muttered. She hopped off the rock and rested her head on Optimus' shoulder. He twisted his neck and saw her smile up at him. "Look...can this just be between you and me...?

"Yes. It is best if we kept...your ability to_ ourselves_," Optimus nodded for emphasis. "There is no telling what the government, or N.E.S.T officials for that matter, would do if they found out the truth."

"True that," Zora murmured, and then she looked at Prime and smiled, inching closer and closer to him...

Optimus wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. She rested her head against his shoulder once more, arms thrown around his neck. She was so _close _to him. He could feel her heartbeat, that steady rhythm that assured him she was _life._

"Thanks for getting me out of that cage," she whispered, letting her hand wander to the back of Prime's neck. Optimus peered into her dark eyes, the color of rich chocolate, so deep and inviting. He had always found the humans organic optics so...tempting. Enjoyable. Unique. They were right when they said that the eyes were a window to the soul. Zora's certainly were, and he wanted her to know it.

"You're welcome. Your eyes are beautiful, by the way."

"So are yours," Zora said softly, leaning in closer to him, fingers drifting across his cheek and lips. Optimus ran his fingers though her hair, feeling each strand individually. "Your original eyes, too."

"These eyes are just an illusion."

"They seem so _real_," she breathed against his cheek, "just like the rest of you..."

Optimus gulped and nodded, leaning and resting her forehead against her, closing his eyes, taking in her delicious scent. This was the closest he had ever been to a human, the first he had ever felt a need to touch and hold. The first one that had ever...aroused him. His processors told him that he should have been revolted by her actions, her touches, but his spark longed for it. Wanted it more than anything else.

Optimus let his lips hover over hers. She froze, her breath tickling his lips. He heard her gulp.

"May I?" He asked, hesitant at first. Then he saw the trust in her eyes, saw the admiration. He thought he saw something else too, something distant, but growing stronger by the second. Was it lust, or love? He couldn't tell.

"If you_ want_ to."

Optimus leaned in, but pulled away when he heard Drake's heavy footsteps and angry shouts.

"Drake! What the hell?" Zora shrieked, still clutching onto Optimus, who was giving Drake a glare. The teenage human stalked across the sand, fingers curled into a fist, trembling, shaking. Optimus stared into his eyes and saw the fear and the hatred. Saw the anger.

"Mr. Talent -"

"Don't give me that bull, Prime!" He roared, shoving past Zora, who had stepped in front of him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Is that any of _your_ business?" Zora snapped. "Jeez, Drake, what's the matter with you?"

"No, what's the matter with _you, _Zora." Drake's voice suddenly became deathly quiet. He shook his head and glared at Optimus. "Y-You, w-with this….thing. This machine."

"This _machine_ has a name," Zora snarled. "Learn it."

Drake shook his head and stepped back. "Machines don't have hearts. Alien's don't have hearts. Therefore, they lack a soul, and a conscious and the ability to choose right from wrong or the ability to love. Killing machines, they are..."

"I would _never _hurt her," Optimus rumbled, stepping up to Drake. He was a master at human facial expression, from the slightest frown to the most intimidating, vicious snarl. He wasn't surprised when Drake inhaled loudly, out of nervousness. Optimus stood down, not wanting to bait the boy further.

"You say that _now_," Drake narrowed his eyes. "But you just _wait_."

"Drake, get out of here. Go talk crap to someone else," Zora said. "I don't want to hear any more of it."

"Hear any more of_ what_? The _truth_," Drake sneered, a sneer that reminded Optimus a lot of Starscream. Nevertheless, he knew that Drake was no Starscream. Just thinking about it sent shivers down his frame.

"Go. Away." Zora sound through clenched teeth. Drake shrugged and backed away slowly, not taking his eyes off Optimus, who was trying to find something to say. He had encountered may humans like this before…humans who would never see that the Autobot's were only trying to help. Zora saw that, but why couldn't Drake?

Optimus sighed as Drake disappeared into the trees. He heard the soft rumble of a motorcycle engine, possible Arcee. He didn't know and wasn't about to ask.

Zora stared at him. Optimus glanced at her luscious lips, upset that he hadn't gotten to get a taste of them. She coughed nervously and walked away from him, fingers laced together. Then, her fist clenched and she began to shake. Issuing forth a hearty cry, she flung both hands out in front of her and blasted at the cliff, turning stone to lava in seconds.

"Zora," Optimus breathed, watching the girl. Finally, her light died and her hands dropped to her side. She hung her head, back facing Optimus.

A twig snapped. To the right, just inside the cluster of trees that led into the forest.

"You _three_ can come _out_ now," Optimus said, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We weren't watching!" Sam stuttered, falling out onto the sand. Mikaela peered out from around a tree. "We swear! Right, Bee?"

_Thud_. Bumblebee fell beside Sam, vigorously nodding his head, as if his very life depended on it. Mikaela stepped out and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, shooting Zora a concerned glance.

"Shit," Zora spoke up, lifting her head. Her eyes were red. "You saw all that? The light, I mean?"

"Um, yeah. You can, like, see it from space, I bet," Sam said, getting to his feet, brushing sand off his jeans. He stood beside Bumblebee, who had dropped to his knees in front of Zora and was playing clip after clip, trying to comfort her. Make her feel a little bit better. Nothing seemed to be working, and after a while, Bee gave up.

"Outstanding." Zora muttered, jerking her shoulder away from Mikaela's outstretched hand. She shot Optimus an apologetic look and sauntered over to him.

"No one can know about this, Sam, Mikaela, _Bumblebee_," the Prime said, putting particular emphasis in Bee's name. He knew that the scout had a reputation for spilling secrets.

All three nodded.

"Bumblebee, please take Sam and Mikaela back to the base." Optimus said. Bumblebee gave him a salute and transformed, engine revving, tires kicking up sand. The Prime deactivated his holoform, doors popping open, inviting Zora inside.

"Alright. But…save the kissing for later," Zora said, smiling and climbing inside.

* * *

><p>Optimus sighed and scanned the data pad before him, sliding a finger across it before setting it down.<p>

Bug diagnostic read throughout: Check.

Sit here and wonder how he was going to fix the entire situation: still contemplating. It wasn't something he liked to do, to bathe in his own self-pity. But he could barely help it. The desperation was almost too much. The despair was eating him alive, like the bugs would do, chewing and chewing at his spark until nothing was left.

Ironhide came in, gave an oral report, and then left. Optimus hadn't bee paying much attention to it, considering the fact that it was about Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, and they _always _got into trouble. Send them to the brig, he had told Ironhide dismissively. It wasn't like he could do anything else about their outspoken behavior, especially since he had known it had been coming from the time he had landed on Earth.

A few hours later, Ratchet walked into his office with even more disturbing news.

"It's about the girl."

"Zora?" Optimus set down his data pad.

Ratchet didn't respond, but instead reached into a little nook in his armor and pulled out a little orange capsule, so small that when he put it on Optimus' desk, the large mech had to lean forward. It was human sized, insignificantly tiny and full of a few rattling pills.

"What are these?"

"What do they look like, Prime?" Ratchet's metallic jaw was set, and Optimus had never seen the medic so stoic, so rigid. Usually, when he was upset, he resulted to wrench-throwing and agitated rants. But considering the recent events, Optimus knew that the medic knew that no one was in the mood.

"Percocet. And a few others," Ratchet waved a hand contemptuously, as if the wording didn't matter. "Look them up if you don't know what they are."

"I know what they are, Ratchet. Why did you bring these to me?" Optimus shot a sharp glance in the medics direction. Ratchet shuddered his optics and let out a breath.

"Wheelie found them in Zora's quarters…" he seemed to stumble over his words, and Optimus could hear his cooling fans switch on. "The little rat was snooping, but he managed to conjure up some unsettling discoveries."

Optimus nodded for the medic to continue, but he wasn't following. All he saw were the pills, the painkillers, and nothing else. He was tired and in desperate need of some energon, and the medic's rambling was doing nothing to cure him.

"Percocet is not something she should have in her room unless_ I_ am prescribing them to her," Ratchet said angrily. "Which I am not."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Optimus, Wheelie has seen her taking them by the handfuls. These aren't things you just pop into your mouth like candy," The medic slapped his palm down onto the table, sending the capsule bouncing and rolling. "Optimus,_ listen_ to me."

"I _am_ listening. Has Wheelie provided you with any _evidence_ that –"

"We've all seen her!" The medic exploded suddenly, throwing out his hands. "She can barely walk or talk without sounding like she's been taking something she's not supposed to. Optimus, I'm not a human medic. But I do know the dangers of taking these," he stopped the pills from rolling off the desk with one metal fingers, picking them up and scowling. "It's just as it was back on Cybertron. Too many, and she'll be dead in a matter of months."

Optimus leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose, optics shut. Ratchet stood in front of him, shuffling his feet and staring down at the floor.

"Heart failure, blood clots…you name it," Ratchet murmured to himself. "Something has to be done. Optimus, you need to speak to her."

"I am not a medic, Ratchet," Optimus said coolly. "You have far more knowledge of the subject than I do."

"You just don't want to talk to her. Embarrassed, Prime?"

"Not embarrassed. Cautious. I don't want her thinking that I….." He trailed off when he noticed Ratchet's skeptical look. "You get the idea."

"The idea that you're embarrassed?"

Optimus rolled his optics and slid the data pad to the side, saying, "Yes, Ratchet. I am embarrassed. But you know where I'm coming from."

"A pretty one-sided position, if you ask me."

Optimus hadn't asked him, but he kept his mouth shut. Ratchet would most likely have a few wrenches stored up under there.

Why her. Why Zora, _beautiful_ Zora….

Optimus felt his spark clench at the thought of something happening to her, the thought of finding her dead.

He still had those thoughts about her, of her sweet scent tickling his olfactory sensors, her lips against his throat. They had come close the other night. So extremely close.

"I will talk to her. At least warn her of the dangers," Optimus said. "The medical part, I will leave to you, old friend."

"Good. And please…for her sake, as well as yours…do it quickly. This is not in the field of my expertise."

And then Ratchet was gone.


	25. Soul

"So, explain this all to me again?" Sam said, sitting down at the kitchen table beside Zora and Mikaela. "The whole, you know, light thing."

Zora rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. The base had been surprisingly quiet since both she and Optimus had returned from the living hell. After being held in the med bay for a few days, she wasn't surprised that a few of the human and Autobot soldiers didn't want to speak to her. She bet Ratchet's usual moodiness had rubbed off on her.

"There's nothing to be explained, man," Zora said, sighing and leaning on her elbows, resting her head in her hands. "I think of light, and bam, light."

"I don't know if I should be scared for you, or happy for you," Sam said, lowering his voice when he saw Epps walk past the open door.

"What's….that supposed to mean?" Mikaela asked, speaking up crossing her arms. She cocked an eyebrow at Zora, who shrugged.

"No diss to you or anything, Z, but….um, normal people aren't going to like this," Sam said. "Neither are the bot's."

"_Why_ do you think Optimus is keeping it a secret?" Zora said slowly. "He and I have already _discussed_ this. You, Mikaela, and Bumblebee are the only other who know. Possibly Lennox and Epps, _if_ Prime decides to tell. I dunno, and frankly, as long as the right people know, I don't care."

"Wait, what about Ratchet?" Mikaela asked. "He's the medic. There has to be something he can do to fix it?"

"He's a medic, not a Prime. Supposedly, only the _Prime's_ can give and take away power. Unless Ratchet cuts off my _hands_, there is _nothing_ else he can do," Zora said.

"So….you don't care if others find out?" Mikaela asked, raising her eyebrows.

"As long as they don't go leading an angry mob against me," Zora said, shrugging.

"Sort of risky, if you ask me…" Sam murmured. He caught Zora's confused glance and spoke up, making his voice a little louder. "I mean, think about it. Things are already weird enough for everyone, bot's and humans. Then, all of a sudden, some random girl comes up with some serious mojo, and, like, you expect everyone to be like, 'oh, yeah, Zora can shoot fireballs out of her eyes or something…we're cool with that.'" Sam gulped and shot Zora an apologetic glance. "No. _Nobody_ is going to be _okay _with it."

"They'll blame _Optimus_, who won't really have an _explanation_," Mikaela continued. "A lot of the humans who don't know the bot's don't quiet get the whole '_supernatural_' thing. You know, the Prime's and all."

Zora thought for a moment. Mikaela and Sam where both….sort of right. If she went in acting all superior and righteous, the consequences could be deadly. It was like at school. A kid gets picked on because they're different, they get shoved around, bullied, the adults step in. Here, a person, a _human _especially, is different, they don't just get picked on, they get either jailed, or captured by the Decepticons. The scenario was similar, but the rules had changed.

"See what I mean?" Sam said. "Prime was right to keep it down low. People are freaked out enough. No need to fuel the flames."

Zora shrugged and huffed. "I guess. It's not like I was going to stroll into the hangar with my hands glowing."

"_Right_." Sam looked at her suspiciously. He drummed his fingers against the smooth surface of the table, clearly unnerved by the awkward silence that had cast around the whole room. Zora bit her lip and glanced at Mikaela, who was busy examining her nails. Finally, she looked up, looked at Zora, and then Sam.

"Alright. Time to change the subject," she said, letting out a long breath. She suddenly straightened up, a smile taking over her features. "Hey, we're going to that club tonight, right?"

"The one in rich-town Synapsis?" Zora asked. She had heard about it a few days ago, from Ratchet, when she had been in the med bay being poked and prodded and scanned. She hadn't commented, for at the time she had thought she was going to be stuck in the med bay for longer than she had anticipated.

She groaned, remembering the last party she had been too. It hadn't ended well.

"Parties….not_ another_ one," Zora moaned. "Parties are bad luck."

"It's a _club _not a party," Mikaela pointed out, as if it made any difference.

"Yeah, well…." Zora trailed off, glancing out the door, seeing Lennox and a few other soldiers walk by, idly chatting. She hadn't spoken to the Major much, but from the way Sam and Mikaela described him, he seemed to be a nice guy. She looked back at Mikaela and said, "do I have to wear a dress?"

Mikaela nodded. "Not a fancy dress, though."

"But a dress," Sam said. "If you happen to have one. Skirts work too."

"And you know this….how?" Zora asked.

"Ah, well, I was talking to your boy Drake…" Sam began. Under the table, Zora's hands clenched into fist.

"Don't talk about that asshole to me," Zora snarled. "I'm sort of pissed at him right now."

"Why?"

Zora opened her mouth, but closed it. How was she supposed to tell them that Drake interrupted her and Optimus when they were about to….kiss. It wasn't something you blurted out at any given time, and quite frankly, she didn't feel very comfortable talking about it with humans. They would probably thing something was wrong with her. It wasn't normal to be attracted to aliens.

Well, if something was wrong with Zora, there must be something wrong with Optimus, too. She had met members of his kind. A few of them didn't particularly see humans as the most compatible species. If Optimus had a problem, then he would get more beef for it that Zora would.

"_Nothing_. Nothing at all," Zora sighed. "So…how about that party?"

* * *

><p>Maggie Madson didn't even think about the thing growing on her shoulder.<p>

It was just a bruise, she thought, from when she had bumped against something or something had hit it unexpectedly. It wasn't a new thing for her. She bruised often and easily, especially since she had a tendency to do reckless, stupid things. But that was just her. And there was no changing her.

She wasn't all that happy with her new job at Rand Corporation. It provided her with two things and two things only: money and friends. Her involvement with the Autobots had been terminated long ago, but that didn't mean she didn't get a glimpse of them every now and then.

And that all led up to the fact that she lived and breathed in Florida, loved the state almost as much she loved her old home back in Australia. Maybe that was because it reminded her of home the most, with its beaches and all.

"You have a pretty nasty bruise there, Maggie," Glen had brought it up once.

"Yeah, just hit my shoulder, that's all."

So she ignored it. For now, until one of her friends asked her to go to a club with her, and Maggie had already begun to pick out a dress, which, once she stopped and thought about it, was quite stupid because she wasn't going until next week. So she shook her head, scratched her shoulder, and went on with her life.

The thing began to itch, and she finally began to question the concept of going to get it checked out.

But it was too late because before she knew it she was in her friend's deep blue sports car and heading out to the party.

Her dress was on way too tight, which was providing her with a suitable distracting from the itch.

Her friend was busy driving and Maggie was peering out the window as they drove by Synapsis, probably one of the worst places in the U.S.

Her friend began talking, but Maggie was ignoring her. She was busy probing her shoulder, sliding the thick red straps to reveal the sore, probing it lightly. It didn't hurt when she touched it, but it felt squishy. Like a balloon filled with water.

She would go to the doctor tomorrow, she though as she pulled her strap back over the bruise, too late now.

Too late.

* * *

><p>Mikaela had left early with Sam and Bumblebee, leaving Zora alone in their room. She was having to borrow one of Mikaela's outfits, a black dress that came just above her knees. Mikaela had a lot more stuff packed than she did, for Zora hadn't actually been prepared to get involved in the whole alien affair.<p>

Since Synapsis was right next to the base, they didn't have to drive far. Apparently, Optimus had offered to take her, to just drop her off and drive back to the base and let her come back with Bumblebee, Sam, and Mikaela. Zora was relieved. More quality time with her favorite bot. It was a shame he wasn't going to stay, though. Most of the Autobots were going, so she suspected the Decepticons would think better of trying to pull something off.

"Should have never agreed with_ Drake_…" Zora bit her tongue when she said Drake's name. The boy was going to be at the party, with Arcee, of course, his_ new _best friend. Arcee was really his guardian, but Drake treated her like his girlfriend. Was Zora disgusted? No. She would have been a hypocrite if she had been disgusted. But she could see Drake's game. He was trying to make her jealousy by getting all buddy-buddy with Arcee, who, frankly, seemed to dislike Drake as much as Drake disliked Simmons.

Was his plan working? Of course no. Zora loved him, of course, loved him like a _brother. _She had never seen him in that way. Not even when he had kissed her that one time, before everything around them had come crashing down.

Zora adjusted the straps to her dress, lightly running her fingers across the necklace around her neck. Her hair had grown out, long, red tendrils curling down her shoulders. Looking nice was a new high for her. She had never really even preferred dresses. She liked soccer shorts and jeans. That had been her main wardrobe since she was eighteen.

She stared at herself in the mirror, at her gaunt form. Her cheeks were hollow and her eyes had lost that deep brown, glazing over.

The effects were killing her. She could see it as she fluffed her hair and tried to look presentable. The dress, the makeup, wasn't bothering her. It was the fact that her hands were trembling, fingers twitching.

And it hurt.

Using her power, using that deadly green light, hurt her. After every shot there was an aftermath of spasm's that had her convulsing, doubling over it pain.

She had fixed it with medication. Ratchet hadn't prescribed it, of course, but it helped with the pain and eased her distress.

And as long as it worked, she didn't care what it would do.

A soft knock jolted her out of her trance.

"Come in."

Optimus' holoform appeared in the doorway, as tan and handsome as ever. He smoothed back his short black hair and said, "Zora?"

He looked stunned at the sight of her in a dress. Zora saw his expression in the mirror's reflection, the way he gulped nervously and shut the door behind him.

"Can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Sure," Zora rolled her shoulder, tinkering with the loose material of the straps. It didn't dip low in the back, and she'd prefer it didn't, for she didn't want to spend the entire night having people staring at the scar on her back.

She shuddered nervously. She always had scars, but the two most prominent were the one on her chest from where Megatron had shot her, and the jagged one on her back. No one could touch her there. No one _would_ touch her there.

"You look….beautiful," Optimus commented, stepping beside her. His hand hovered over her back, and then went to her shoulder.

"Thanks. I tried not to go overboard," she stared at her ground nervously. She could feel the heat radiating off him like a sauna, the previous days events flashing back to her.

They had almost….kissed. Drake had robbed them of the opportunity. Zora clenched her fist and turned to Optimus, staring up at him.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

His look gave her the answer. Saddened. Disappointed. Zora knew what he was about to say, so she beat him to it.

"Did Wheelie tell you?"

"How did you know?"

"I have a knack for knowing what people are going to say _before_ they say it," Zora shrugged. "It's one of my gifts. Your look gave it away," Zora turned her back to Prime and looked in the mirror at herself, at her crumbling figure.

"This is serious, Zora," he held up a hand, and in his palm was the orange capsule she had been looking for. She reached for it, but he jerked it away. "What drove you to do something like…."

"It's not my fault, alright!" She shouted. She held up her hands, raw and blistering, shaking them in front of Optimus' face. "Look at this! Look at it!"

"Zora, calm down," Optimus gripped her wrist, though they continued to tremble. Her entire form was shivering like a wet dog.

A lone tear fell down her cheek, and Optimus released her wrist, wiping it away with his thumb.

"It hurts whenever I use it…." Zora stifled her tears and steeled herself. "Whenever I use it, it hurts so much….and I didn't know what to do so I….I stole some pills from Ratchet so I wouldn't hurt anymore…."

She was shaking, her knees banging together. Optimus touched her cheek gently, pulling her close.

As soon as their bodies met, her trembling stopped. It was like an off-switch, touching him.

And she wanted more.

"Optimus, I'm _so_ sorry," she shook her head and stared up at him with big brown eyes. "God, I'm such a fucking idiot…."

They sat on the edge of her bed, Zora wiping her eyes and touching a hand to her stomach. She felt it, her bones underneath the material. Her body ached and her mind felt numb, like she had been jolted full of electricity and the aftershocks had deadened her.

"How come…." She said suddenly, "Every time I try to do something, I end up hurting someone else? You, Drake, Simmons and his crew when they tried taking me back to base. It's like I'm just a….destruction magnet."

"You are far from that, Zora," Optimus said, stroking her hair. "Do not put the blame on yourself."

"It's kind of hard not to when you turn your head and look around," Zora said with a small smile. "I don't know how you deal with it, Optimus. Deal with all the pain and loss…."

"Pain and loss have followed me for centuries. But it's the mech's and femme's around me….dead or alive, that keep me from falling into an inescapable state of despair."

"I just don't know what to do anymore…." She leaned into his touch and said, "Help me find out what I'm supposed to do."

Zora could feel his spark flaking away, piece by piece. Her agony was affecting him. Causing him to tremble.

She needed to show him that she, too, cared for him.

The kiss was simple, soft. His lips against hers. He didn't respond at first, and then hands came up to grasp the side of her face. Her mouth moved, almost methodically, against his own.

She had never done this, had never kissed a Cybertronian. The effects sent her mind into a frenzy, each touch he placed against her skin foreign.

Foreign, but loving and tender.

"We will face this," he said, lips separating. Her breath was in his ear and she felt him securing an arm around her waist. "Together. I swear it."

"I know."

Optimus smiled, resting his forehead against her, kissing her one more time.

It was the most incredible feeling in the world.


	26. Disaster

Drake was _not_ going to the party. He wasn't going anywhere near a bunch of aliens, and didn't plan to for a long, long time.

Except for Arcee. She had her uses for now, like driving him to places that he wanted to go. One of those places was run-down Synapsis, a place that he hadn't been too in quite some time. Old, ratty, dilapidated building were all it was made of, a perfect haven for Decepticon's, and even worse, the bugs.

"_This_ is how you decide to spend your evening?" Arcee said, letting Drake off before transforming. She rolled towards Drake. "I have to say….this isn't a good idea. We shouldn't be here. Now that I think about it, we need to _go_."

"_No_," Drake said, hating how his voice sounded all whiny and weak. That was how Zora probably though of him right now, whiny, weak, not her type. Drake gulped. Best not to think of her right now. "Look, Arcee, I swear that it will just take a _minute_."

"I detect not Decepticon energy signals….but that doesn't mean that they're not here," she said. She saw Drake's pleading look and sighed. "Alright. But I mean it when I say that you've got _one minute_."

Drake nodded quickly, then took off across the road to the nearest building, an old bookshop that had gone out of business years ago. He pushed through the wooden double doors, skidding to a halt, looking around at the books stacked on the counter, at the old, dusty carpet that smelled like mold.

"Holy shit, man, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" A voice behind him said. Drake spun and found himself staring into the eyes of a boy, no older than him, wielding a baseball bat in one hand. He let it rest on his shoulder and tilted his head to the side. Another boy stood by the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

"I see two boys with no lives," Drake said, unable to keep the grin from spreading across his face. "God, Quinn, Sledge, I haven't seen you two since you tried to freaking mug me."

Sledge, the one with the baseball bat, spat onto the carpet and flung the bat to the side. He clearly remembered Drake, and didn't look as happy to see him as his partner did.

"Where's your girlfriend? Out playing Super Woman again?" Quinn snarled.

"Something like that," Drake replied smugly, shoving his hands into his pocket. He sauntered over to the couch, a torn piece of furniture that way barely holding together. He flopped down onto it like he would do at home, elbow resting on the arm.

"What brings you here?" Quinn asked.

"Coming to see what crap you guys are bringing in," Drake said. He had never really liked Quinn and Sledge, but they were the only people who liked discussing comics and conspiracy. Although, after what Drake had seen, conspiracy had become reality. But that didn't mean he didn't like discussing it anymore.

"Nothing much. Just a few magazines….well….we do have _something," _Sledge said, rummaging through some bookshelves. Quinn shot him an annoyed look before raising his eyebrows at Drake. Quinn had always been the smarter of the two. He had been the one who had planned the whole mugging. It had been so long ago….Drake didn't remember when they had gotten out of jail. He only remembered speaking to them afterwords. They hadn't apologized, but they had welcomed him. Just him. Not Zora. Never Zora.

"Sledge, you dumbass….you weren't supposed to….ugh," Quinn glanced at Drake and shrugged. "Okay. You got us. But….since you're really part of the club, I guess you can see."

"See what?"

"Right this way, sir Drake," Quinn mocked. "Sledge, be a good boy and watch the door."

"I _always _have to watch the door," Sledge whined. "Why can't _I_ show it too him?"

"Because you're abnormally small brain will not be able to come up with the words to describe it," Quinn snapped. He shook his head and walked towards the back door that led to the basement. "We can't have anyone barging in on us. Just shut up and stand guard."

"Whatever." Sledge drawled, flopping down onto the couch.

Drake followed Quinn down the wooden, creaky stairs, brushing away dust and cobwebs. It smelled even worse down here, a combination of rotting food and rat poop. Drake blanched and felt the urge to hold his nose.

It was a good thing Ratchet wasn't here. He would have gone on and on about all the health dangers and hazards.

"I swear, man, if you tell anyone about this, I will mug you all over again, but actually make it _hurt,_" Quinn threatened. He stood at the bottom of the steps and waited for Drake to follow. Reluctantly, Drake joined him, and they both stood facing the dark room. Quinn reached over and flicked a switch, and suddenly, light flooded the room.

In the center of the room was a large, disfigured shape, covered in a tarp.

"Are you ready to have your mind _blown_?" Quinn whispered, striding up to the object and gripping the edge of the tarp.

"Already have, _Quinn_, already _have_," Drake murmured, watching as Quinn made a big show out of ripping the tarp off the object.

To say that his mind _was_ blown would be an understatement.

* * *

><p>Maggie sat, alone, at the party, hand clutching her drink so tightly that she thought the glass cup might break.<p>

It felt good to just escape. Get away from work and all the troubles of life. That, and drink.

How long had it been since she'd done this?

It seemed like millions and millions of years. And understatement, of course, but she was finding it hard to focus on anything else other than the drink in her hand.

Maybe it was the thing on her shoulder. She hadn't checked it in some time, hadn't intended to because it wasn't causing her any trouble.

Except now.

It throbbed, ached. Just that one spot.

And another spot under her arm. And another in a spot just below her ribs.

Whatever.

Ten minutes and she was already feeling herself become inebriated. Or if that was actually it. She hadn't drank that much, hadn't…

"Ouch!"

"Watch it," the redheaded girl snapped. Then, she shook her head and Maggie got a good glimpse of tired, brown eyes. The girl snatched up her own drink and went to sit down in a corner. Probably going to brood. But she didn't look like the kind of girl to go and slit her wrist in the bathtub or whatever…

Maggie rolled her eyes and probed at her shoulder. There was a lump there…

A lump that squirmed and writhed and….

_Oh, oh God, oh my God_….

Maggie was bounding towards the bathroom before she knew what was happening, pushing past people, ignoring the cries and slosh of spilt beer.

She opened the bathroom door, slammed it shut so the music was only a dull echo.

Her legs were wobbly and she found it hard to focus and stand up. It was like someone was sapping her strength….

She reached up and moved the strap to her dress so she could see the wound.

She looked.

Checked. Almost screamed, but shock took over and she just stared dumbly at the rows and rows of sharp teeth protruding from her flesh.

Her knee's buckled, but she caught herself and started into the mirror, brow beaded with sweat.

The thing was still there.

She bolted for the door. She had to get out of here, had to get help, had to see a doctor even through her mind screamed that this was beyond a doctors profession. She shoved her way through the crowd, passing the redheaded girl who just stared up at her with dark brown eyes. Slammed her way out the back door and into an alley, where she stumbled and collapsed in a heap, leaning against the wall for support.

Alone.

She sat there, eyes closed, unable to walk or think clearly.

Crunching! She heard crunching, like someone grinding up bones, coming from her midsection.

Numbness. Her ear was…was…gone! She couldn't feel her ear. Couldn't feel anything, could only hear the crunch, crunch, crunch as the bugs ate her from the inside out.

She lifted up her dress, tears brimming along the corner of her eyes, to stare at the wasp digging its way out of her stomach.

No, this wasn't a dream.

Blink.

Stare.

Scream.

* * *

><p>Of course, it was in the middle of the party, and disaster struck.<p>

Zora was sitting at a table in the corner, holding a drink in one hand, remembering how she and Drake had been in this exact same position, doing the exact same thing, almost a month ago. She looked at the empty seat in front of her. She had been saving it for a specific person, a specific Autobot, actually. But said Autobot was busy talking to Ratchet's holoform.

Hm. The good Medic had apparently decided to get away from the base. He had probably left Jolt in charge, since he was the only other bot' training to be a medic.

Ironhide was there, with Chromia. So were Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, both looking like they would rather be anywhere else at the moment. The way they slouched in the corner, not talking to anyone said it all. Zora wasn't about to approach them to talk, no, she wasn't that desperate for someone to speak with.

She swirled her drink and set it down on the table. Everyone else was either dancing or chatting. Zora wasn't doing either. She didn't want to….not without Drake. He was her party partner. Always. She wondered where he had run off to, she hadn't seen him around. She knew she was supposed to be angry at him….knew she should hate him for what he had said to Optimus….but strangely, she missed him. Missed him a lot.

He would just have to get used to the idea of her and Optimus….together. Not that they were together now, but if Prime kept it up, they might very well be soon. And knowing Drake, he would make an even bigger deal out of it, blurt out some rood, snide remark, and disappear. He would return, of course, if he missed Zora just as much as Zora missed him. It was only a matter of time.

Then, a hand on her shoulder. More of a slap than a gentle pat. She looked up and saw a grim-faced Sam standing behind her, grinning from ear to ear like some drunk fool.

"Glad to see that you're enjoying yourself."

"Whatever," Zora shook her head and rolled her eyes, more focused on Prime than anything else. So strong, he looked, so regal and radiating with power.

Sam huffed, dismayed at Zora's reaction and words, and stumbled away, leaving Zora alone to sit there and mope.

A scream.

The music played on and the partying did not cease. Zora was sure she was the only one who had heard it. A figment of her imagination, maybe? Some teenager playing some stupid trick?

Maybe…

She glanced at Ratchet, whose blonde haired holoform was attracting a few certain human female's, glanced at Zora.

He had heard it, too.

After a few grunts, insults and apologies, Ratchet untangled himself and headed over to Zora.

"What was that?"

"It came from outside," Zora shrugged. "Probably just a bunch of drunk idiots playing some trick."

"It didn't sound like a trick," Ratchet's ice blue eyes bore holes right through Zora, and she rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Fine. I'll go check it out," Zora pushed past Ratchet back through the crowd, past Optimus, who looked at her worriedly, and then began to follow.

They pushed out the back door, shutting it behind them so all the noise and confusion was drowned out, a dull thud vibrating through the walls.

Darkness. The alley was dark, trash strewn here and there, something smelling oddly like…like…

A human figure moaned and stirred in the shadows.

"Zora?" Optimus said.

Zora nodded and raised her hands, a dull green light emitting from her palm, something she had been practicing but never intending to use. It cast an eerie glow on everything, making it look like the shadows would jump out at her at any given moment.

But it wasn't the light or the shadows or any of that that horrified Zora, no, it was the human being writhing and squirming before her.

Almost half of the woman's body was gone. A huge wasp or ant or whatever was pushing its way out, legs kicking through flesh and eager to get out.

Optimus wasn't moving, didn't move even when the door opened and Ratchet and Mikaela spilled into the alley.

Mikaela looked. Didn't scream or anything like that, just spun around and walked back inside, hands and legs trembling. Didn't want to see any more than she had already seen.

Ratchet just stared.

"I…I tried to kill it…I…I'm sorry," the woman sputtered.

"I know, Maggie, it's not your fault."

Zora glanced at Optimus. He knew her? How…

"Am I gonna die? I didn't do anything wrong…I tried to be a good person…"

"No, you were a great person, Maggie, a great person," Ratchet said, far more soothingly that Zora had ever thought he was capable of.

He wasp was kicking its way out and Maggie was still sitting there, stone faced, unmoving even when the bug twisted its head, giving Zora a pretty good view of its red eyes that oozed pus, and took a massive bite out of Maggie's head, leaving one eye blinking and half a mouth twisted down into a grimace.

Zora was going to be sick…going to vomit…

The bug took another bite of head, one bite that effectively killed Maggie because then there was no more head left, and then it was out, wings flaring, getting ready to pounce.

Getting ready to kill again.

"Zora!"

She raised her hands and fired blindly, knocking Ratchet to the side, the green light slicing the abomination in half, burning even past that and hitting Maggie's headless corpse and burning through her dress, her beautiful red dress that was splattered with blood, burning away and away until there was nothing left but ashes and a wriggling bug body that was sliced in two.

Zora fired at the bug and it, too, was reduced to ash.

She stumbled away from the scene, down the alley even thought Optimus and Ratchet were both shouting at her to stop, as if there was something she could do. Stumbled, tripped and fell, not caring if her own dress got dirty.

She puked up everything inside her, right then and there.

"Zora!"

"_Get away from me_!" It was a pitiful wail of despair.

Strong arms hoisted her up and pressed her against a warm torso. Prime held her in his arms while she sobbed, wracking spasm's that had her coughing and gasping for air.

She wanted to fall to her knee's and demand some type of explanation from God. _Why? Why_ was this happening?

Optimus had his arm around her and she held onto him like a lifeline. It was either that or collapse.

"Just…just get me away from here," she whispered.

He walked her, legs shaking, away from the scene, and the whole time Zora's fist began to clench and clench until her fingernails cut through her skin.

The pain was stunning.

She welcomed it.


	27. Fearless

Drake stared at the….whatever it was. It was alien piece, no doubt, long and curved, covered with alien symbol that swirled and fluctuated wildly. He could see the smooth, brown metal. It was a little smaller than himself, but it reeked of radiation.

"Where the crap did you get that, man?" Drake hissed, stepping closer. He could practically _feel_ the energy radiating off the thing...dangerous, sinister energy that he did not like.

"A good friend of mine. You know that big incident in Egypt a few years ago?" Quinn said, bundling up the tarp and tossing it to the side. "Well, my buddy Hank was there. Like, smack-dab in the middle of it. It was aliens, man, can you believe it? _Aliens_!"

"Yes, _aliens_, big whoop," Drake said out of the corner of his mouth. His eyes were more focused on the gigantic metal…._thing_ in front of him. "But what the hell is _this_?"

"Its part of an _alien_, dude, you can't see that?" Quinn said excitedly. "I think it's a…finger. Yeah. A finger."

"How did your good friend Hank get it here?" Drake asked, narrowing his eyes. "To the United States? Someone lugging a huge alien _finger_ through an airport would attract a lot of attention."

"Who said he flew?" Quinn said. He patted Drake on the back. "Don't worry. My Hank has his freaky little ways."

"Sure he does," Drake murmured. Slowly, ever so slowly, he inched his way towards the finger. Something drew him towards it…something. He wanted to touch it. Wanted to feel the moving symbols, see if they were for real, or is they were just a trick of the light. He glanced at Quinn, who shrugged.

"Man, not even _I've_ been stupid enough to touch it. We had to wrap it up and put it in a truck or something to move it."

"Well, allow me," Drake said. He was close to it now, so close that he could see the moving symbols even more clearly. They were hypnotizing. It caused a wave of dizziness to wash over Drake, and he fell to his knees. Quinn's sudden shout of alarm all but flew from his mind, and he thrust his hand out anyway, letting his fingers brush over its warm surface.

The sudden jolt of electricity sent him flying backwards, right into Quinn, who fell in a tangled heap of limbs. Spewing a few curse words, Drake rolled over, clutching his hand, which ached and burned.

"What the hell?" Quinn moaned, shakily getting to his feet. He pulled Drake to his feet.

"Man, what was that about?" Drake groaned, leaning on Quinn for support. His head throbbed, his hands felt like they were on fire. Quinn seemed to take notice and raised his eyebrows.

"Dude. Shocked by an alien finger….sweet," Quinn nodded in approval, giving Drake the thumbs up sign. Angrily, he pushed past Quinn and hastily made his way up the stairs, not waiting as Quinn grabbed the tarp and flung it over the alien finger.

"What was that? I heard shouting?" Sledge asked as Drake opened the door. He held his baseball bat in one hand, and his tan face was a mask of worry.

"Nothing, Sledge. Put the bat down," Drake commanded. "I gotta go."

"You can't stay?" Quinn said sadly, coming up beside Drake. He put a strong hand on Drake's shoulder and squeezed hard. "Look, we let you in on our little secret. Now, you better not tell anyone…"

"I won't," Drake assured him.

"Not even your nitwit girlfriend?" Sledge snarled, dropping the bat and stepping up to Drake. He had never been the tallest, or the strongest, but he was brutal. Vicious. Drake doubted that either of them would show him mercy if he told.

"Tell her we said 'hi'!" Quinn said sarcastically. "And that we miss her a lot."

"_Yeah_," Sledge added. "And that she needs to meet up with us sometime."

"Whatever," Drake muttered, rubbing his aching hand again. They kept jerking, back and forth, twitching. As Drake made his way towards the door, another wave of dizziness his him, and he fell against the wall for support. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. He shook his head and pushed through the door, stumbling across the concrete, practically throwing himself onto Arcee.

"That was more than one second, Drake," she said. "Are you okay?"

"Drive. Back to base. Now," Drake rasped. He looked at his hands again. His fingertips were red from where he had touched the metal. He gulped and gripped the handlebars.

Arcee drove.

* * *

><p>Drake locked himself in the bathroom when he got back, bracing his arms on either side of the sink, feeling as if he were going to vomit.<p>

But he didn't. Just spat up some sickly green stuff and hung his head for the remainder of the time, chest heaving, nearly on the verge of convulsing.

His hands burned, blisters forming on the tips of his fingers. It felt as if someone had dunked them in acid, and he found that washing them with cool water didn't help ease the pain one bit.

His shoulders trembled. His head swam, his reflection in the mirror warping into something else altogether.

Why had he touched that alien piece? Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought, nails digging into the granite. His black hair was damp against his head, and he coughed, releasing a loud stream of curses as he did so.

A knock. It was Epps.

"Drake?"

"Go away!"

"Should I get Ratchet?"

Drake responded with a low, throaty snarl. Epps' didn't reply, his footsteps fading away, a clear indication that he was retreating.

Drake's had whipped back, sweat flying. In the mirror he saw himself trying to fill his lungs with air, his arms beginning to spasm. In the mirror, he saw a boy whose eyes had dilated, their whites disappearing.

In the mirror, he saw a boy weak and ashamed at what he had become. A nonentity. A nobody.

_"She never loved you."_

It was a foreign voice whispering to him, whispering lies into his head. The creature's voice was like a soft purr, like fingers tickling his ear. Drake shook his head and, knees wobbly, clutched the side of the sink for dear life, fearing that he might collapse at any given second.

_"She loves him. Not you," _the voice continued, its words rising in volume. _"But he doesn't deserve her."_

"No," Drake breathed, biting his tongue.

He bit it so hard that he tasted blood. He spat it out into the draining pool of thick green liquid, turning on the sink and washing it down. He washed his mouth, and then splashed water onto his face.

But when he looked up, his reflection was still spinning. Changing.

Transforming.

Staring at him now was not Drake Talent, the mediocrity. Staring back at him Optimus, strong, powerful, regal Optimus Prime, someone Drake had _tried_ to be but, ultimately, never _would _be.

He tilted his head to the side and smiled.

In an unknown fit of rage, Drake roared and slammed his fist against the mirror. The glass shattered and cut into his knuckles, the blood seeping from his fingers and palm and onto the floor.

Tears streamed down his face, the pain fading into the background. The voices? Where were they coming from? They spoke to him, now, in ominous whispers so prominent that he considered grabbing a piece of broken glass and cutting out his brain.

"Now why would you do that?"

Drake whipped around.

Zora was standing there, but in the second it took him to identify her, he knew that it wasn't her.

An illusion. Zora never looked like that. Zora never stood, looking so cocky, so arrogant and full of herself that it made Drake sick.

She walked toward him slowly, and Drake backed away until his back pressed against the wall. Blood oozing from his hands, he raised them up for protection.

"What do you want?"

She was on him in seconds.

"What do_ I_ want?" Her lips were soft against his ear. "What do you _think_ I want?"

"Go away."

A feeble comeback. It was so real, what the human mind could conjure up. The sensation of her fingers dipping below his waist, massaging his thigh, was so realistic that it had him groaning.

He tried to push her away, but she was to strong and the gesture only aroused her even more.

If you could even call it a her. It was an allusion, a figment of his imagination, no more unyielding than a holoform.

When her tongue pried past his firmly shut lips, he wondered if this was how it felt with _him_. He was at fault for doing something he had so strongly detested: kissing and caressing a being that was half-real, half fake. A hoax, a trick of the strategically systematized light. Something he had always thought as sick.

Hypocrite. Even when he touched her back, the gesture as simple as switching a light on and off, he felt like he was betraying everything he stood by.

In a way, he was.

Her lips – her fake lips – were so soft against his own. And sweet, like chocolate. He lapped them up, biting, clutching her head tightly between his fingers.

The overload of sensations was driving him insane. Her fingers tore at his shirt – tore it off in a matter of seconds – kneading the muscles underneath and stroking a finger down past his stomach.

"Stop," he tried to say, but her lips against his robbed him of the ability to continue.

There were only two of them, alone, the illusion of Zora forcing him back against the wall, her lips trailing slowly down his neck. Taking her sweet time, she was, nipping at the flesh and shuddering at every sound he made.

Drake gripped her hair and forced her back. She hissed, eyes narrowed like a snake, sharp nails digging into his skin as her lips found the center of his bare chest.

She bit down and Drake gasped, his fingers curling into locks of her red hair.

"Please…." He whispered against her hair.

"Why should I stop?" She looked up and grinned like a shark. "Pleasure is what you wanted from me in the first place."

"Not you….I don't know what you are," Drake snarled. "But you need to –"

She silenced him by digging diamond sharp nails into his stomach.

The blood spurted forth and Drake gagged, the sickly scent filling his nostrils.

The creature, the mock imitation of what he wanted Zora to be, licked it up. It dribbled down her chin, onto the floor.

She tore off her own shirt, dropping it into the small pool of blood and kissing him again, her lips shutting out the pain and shock.

Drake's bloody fingers scrambled with Zora's neck, and he tried to pry her away, tried to do something….but she forced him back, wrapping one leg around his waist.

No.

She gripped the side of his face and, with as much determination as possible, sent his next words crumbling away with a savage kiss. He could taste his own coppery blood in her mouth, , and when she pulled away he saw her running her bloodied tongue across her cherry red lips.

It was sickening. Drake let out a scream of terror as her fingers dug into the open wound.

"This is what you've wanted from me all along, wasn't it?" Her fingers, sticky with blood, fumbled with his belt. Trying to get his pants off, trying to get the rest of_ her_ attire off.

It wasn't something he was used to seeing from her, the ferocity. The animalistic impulses that, not even in a million years, he would have imagined could come from her. But they were here, and whatever was fueling the illusion was tearing past all of Drake's defenses.

He had to do something.

Blood slicken hands fumbled with Zora's throat, and Drake snarled. This wasn't Zora, this wasn't Zora, he told himself. Her eyes flashed red and she bared sharp incisors.

She slapped Drake. Slapped him so hard that stars exploded behind his eyes and he tasted blood in the side of his mouth. She was on him in a heartbeat, kissing, biting, sucking on his lower lip and driving herself up against him so hard that he couldn't help but let out a small moan.

His fingers found a sharp piece of glass that glinted in the light. Clutching it so hard that he bled, he let out a throaty cry.

He brought it up, and it slid effortlessly through the impersonator's throat.

He would have thought that it would have been an illusion. That it would shimmer out of existence without the slightest indication that it had been wounded.

Instead, the Zora impersonator opened her mouth, and let out a spray of blood that splattered against Drake's cheek.

She slid to the floor, glass still thrust through her neck. Her fingers fumbled with it and, when she pulled it out, the red liquid came out like a river, spreading across the floor, the smell sending Drake's head spinning.

He met her eye for just a split second, her red hair mixed with blood, before the finally wavered and disappeared.

And then, the blood was gone. The puddle of blood on the floor, the gaping, bleeding wounds in Drake's side were gone.

The mirror was still smashed and his hands were still raw and bleeding, but any damage the illusion had inflicted upon him was healed. Gone, as if it had never happened.

Normal, right?

Drake shook his head, picked up his shirt, put it back on, and stumbled out of the bathroom, half blind, half-conscious, tripping back to his room in a self-inflicted haze.

The whole time, he heard a distant voice in his head, laughing.

* * *

><p>He knew she needed a break. He knew <em>he <em>needed a break, and wasn't afraid to let her know it. That was why he took her to her favorite spot, the secluded lagoon area, and had her lay on a blanket, his humanized form cuddled up beside her. One of her arms draped across his waist and her head rested against his shoulder. So close that he could feel her breath against his throat.

It felt _wonderful._

Zora shifted her head, and he got a glimpse of those dark, dark eyes. Her lips pulled into a grimace.

"You really need to get some rest," she whispered, her eyelids dropping down to cover her beautiful brown eyes. "It's not healthy for you to be up like this, all anxious."

Optimus frowned. He wanted to tell her directly…but he could not find the courage. The truth was, recharge seemed like the worst thing to do. He knew he would be kept awake by nightmares, haunting, horrible nightmares about Maggie Madson and her horrific fate. He rarely had dreams, vivid ones, especially, but he knew the incident would remain in his processors forever, not matter how many times he tried to delete it from his memory.

His frown, thought, gave it all away.

"You're scared to sleep because you're afraid you'll see…her," Zora said quietly. "You know what….sleep, bad idea. Frankly, I wouldn't be able to sleep, either."

"_Scared_….yes."

"It's alright to admit that you're afraid of something."

She had a point. He was a leader, and leaders were supposed to be….fearless. Sure, he had gone up against multiple Decepticon's, more than once, actually. Sure, he had fought on many different planets and seen many different creatures of all shapes, sizes, and culture. Every time, he had convinced himself that he had no fear. He was a fearless leader.

So he thought.

Zora sighed and snuggled up closer to him, moving her head to let it lay on his chest.

"So…. what are you most afraid of. I'll tell you mine if you tell me," she said, eyes fluttering open.

"I have seen many things in my seemingly long lifespan…most of which you would not be able to comprehend."

"C'mon. I have a pretty open mind," she said, peering up at him.

"It would certainly frighten _you_," he teased. Zora just shrugged her shoulder, pressing herself against him even more.

"Just tell me."

"When I was battling Megatron in Mission City. I was afraid of…losing the war. And my very own life."

"But you _didn't_," Zora pointed out. "In fact, you saved a whole planet."

"I _failed_, later on," he said.

She went silent, and the only sound was the waves lapping up against the shore. He didn't know how much she had been told about the Egypt battle….some of it was mostly between Sam and himself. In the dark, she saw the painful look on her face.

"You died."

"Yes."

"But you came back. Sam brought you back….he told me…." Zora broke off, rolling away from Optimus and sitting up. She leaned back on her hands, staring down at Optimus, who still lay on his back.

"He was a hero. He still _is_ a hero," he said softly. In the moonlight, he saw Zora smile, a simple thing that filled his spark with joy. Primus, she was just so _beautiful. _He wanted her, and that surprised him. He wanted _her_, a human that he could never have because she was…well, _human. _There were so many obstacles…so many jeopardies. Unless the Decepticons suddenly decided to drop off the plane, there was no way they could be together.

Besides, maybe she didn't even want him in…._that _way.

"Look, we still have what's ahead of us. That was the past. The past is irrelevant at this point," Zora said, staring up at the sky. Her red hair curled in elegant waves down her back, and Optimus had to do everything he could not to reach out and touch it. She looked back down at him and smiled like a sparkling.

"It was a deal. I tell you, you tell me," Optimus pointed out. Zora cocked an eyebrows as he continued. "_Enlighten_ me."

"Hmm…well. I'm _deathly _afraid of spiders. No surprise. Who isn't?" Zora chuckled. "Heights. Don't like heights, either."

Optimus suddenly perked up, mimicking Zora's position as he sat up. "When I hold you in my palm?"

"Eh. Your palm is safe. I feel secure there," her face turned red and she quickly looked away from him. "Unless you drop me."

"I would_ never_."

"I know," Zora nodded, "just wanting to make sure."

"Anything else?" Optimus said gently, not wanting to press her. She had been through a lot…yet, she had adjusted to a dangerous lifestyle quickly. Even more quickly than he had expected.

"I'm afraid of losing my best friend. Or, formerly my best friend. I don't know what to call him anymore," Zora gazed up at the stars again, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

"Drake just needs to…calm down. Rest. Recuperate. He will come back to you," Optimus assured her. She glanced at him, looking anything but convinced. Optimus felt a warm hand shift over his, and he looked down and saw her hand over his.

"Yeah. I guess. I was thinking about going to talk to him, actually."

Optimus looked down at the ground. She was leaving him for Drake….not that it was a bad thing. He knew he was being selfish. He knew shouldn't keep Zora to himself, and knew that he did not own her, either. If she wanted him was her decision, not his.

"I saw him walking back to his room. He seemed a little….shaken," he told her. Zora nodded and let out a breath, staring into his blue human eyes once more.

He reached out and touched her lips with his fingers. He wanted to kiss her _so _badly.

Apparently, so did she, and in moments, he found himself on his back, Zora staring down at him, lips descending down to capture his own. Her kiss was savage, and so was his. He ran his fingers through her hair, and let them rest on her hips. She kissed at his throat.

She pulled away. He lay there, stunned, for he had never come in such close contact to a human.

"I…should get going.…" Zora said, getting to her feet. Her legs were shaking and her breaths were short and quick. Her cheeks were red. "Give me a ride back?"

Optimus just nodded, swallowing, watching as she flashed him a quick smile.

To him, it was the most gorgeous sight in the whole universe.


	28. Cheated

**Got to see Dark of the Moon yesterday!  
><strong>

**Oh. My. Biscuits. It was incredible! All I can say is, Optimus is the bomb. Com. (No spoilers…hehe!)**

**Anyway, thank you for all the lovely reviews. They really make my day. And I have actually come to a decision…if the story does well enough, there might be a sequel. All I know is it will be based during Dark of the Moon, and have a few shocking twist.**

* * *

><p>"Knock, Knock," Zora crowed, rapping her fist against the door again and again.<p>

No answer. Either Drake wasn't there, _or_ he was choosing to ignore her.

"_Knock, Knock," _she said again, putting a particular steel edge in her voice. "Drake, if you're in there, open up. I just want to talk."

No answer, but he heard the rustling of sheets. He was _definitely _in there, and _definitely_ deciding to ignore her. Usually, with Drake, he would just come clean and say what he needed to say to her. He was not the type to ignore someone, especially Zora.

"I'm coming in," she said firmly, pushing the door open, already expecting it to be locked. She was surprised when the door swung open with ease, and was even more surprised to see Drake, lying on the thin mattress, on his stomach, his arms dangling lifelessly off the bed.

His palms were red, as if they had been burned.

"Drake?" Zora said cautiously, closing the door behind her, turning the room dark. He didn't respond at first, just moaned and twitched his fingers. Then, he rolled over on his back. To stare at her. His face was pale. Paler than Zora's.

"Hey. Answer me. Are you okay?" she snapped. Her friend just gulped and nodded, letting his head hit the pillow.

"I'm not buying that shit. Just shake your head to say no," Zora snarled, waltzing up to his bed. "What happened to your hands? Did you burn yourself again?"

He murmured something.

"What?"

"_Shut up, bitch_."

Zora raised an eyebrow, and then placed her hands on her hips and frowned. She hoped she had heard wrong….that he had said something else. But when he rolled over, he saw the hate and anger in his eyes, all directed towards her.

"Get out of here, before I make you!" He snarled. "Now, Zora, _now!_"

"Whoa, calm down," she said, letting out a shaky breath. He scrambled across the small bed, into the far corner, hugging his knees to his chest. He shot her the most evil look Zora had ever seen him give anyone.

"Get. Out. _Now_."

"Please, Drake, just tell me what's the matter…" Zora pleaded, inching closer and closer to him. Each time, the look of hostility on his face grew and grew. "Are you sick? Do I need to get Ratchet?"

"No, don't get that freak of a medic near me! Don't get any of them near me! It's_ their_ fault this is happening to me!"

"What's _happening_ to you, Drake, just _tell_ me! We can fix it!"

"_You're happening to me!" _He screamed suddenly. Zora leap back, backing into the closed door. The sound echoed off the walls, seeming to make her very bones vibrate. The anger in his voice was unbearable . Zora wanted to cover her ears, sink to the floor, and scream.

Finally, Drake seemed to calm down. When Zora looked up, she saw him wiping tears away from his eyes. He was crying, something she had never seen him do. He had always been the tough, no-it-all person. The solid rock.

"Oh, God, Drake, I'm sorry!" Zora whispered. "It's not their fault. Its mine."

Drake's head snapped up, and his eyes widened.

"It _is,_" he hissed. "All your fault, Zora Parker. You're a whore, you know that? Optimus Prime's little whore….do you _sleep _with him? I bet you do!"

Zora was speechless. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"I thought you liked _me_," he whispered. "I thought that you were all _mine_."

"I'm not yours, Drake, I'm not anyone's."

"Optimus acts like he owns you."

"He owns my _heart_. Nothing else."

Drake snarled and swung his feet over the side of the bed. Zora spun and reached for the doorknob, ready to grasp it and run.

Something stopped her. An invisible fist that curled around her waist and squeezed the very air out of her lungs. She gasped as her hand stopped inches from the doorknob.

She felt Drake, her best friend, slide up beside her, grab a fistful of her hair and slam her cheek against the wall, hard.

"C'mon, bro, don't do this…." She whispered, already readying her hands. She didn't want to do it, never thought that she would have too. "Please, don't make _me_ do it…."

"I thought that you _loved_ me…."

"I _do, _but not in that way," Zora said softly. "Listen to me, I love you like a brother. You will _always_ be my brother, all right. I will _always_ have your back. I swear."

Drake was silent, but his grip on her hair loosened. Finally, he let out a breath and released her, going to sit back down on the bed. He ducked his head a little when Zora turned to look at him, and saw the guilt in his eyes. The betrayal and sadness, and she wondered if her….relationship with Optimus hurt him more than she had thought. She actually felt bad for him…he had been holding in his feeling all this time. All time, he had been full of jealously and need.

She exhaled sharply, closing her eyes, and then opening them. "Drake….just tell me. What's the matter with you?"

"Do I really have to tell you?"

"Yeah. You do."

"Please don't go to Ratchet with this….he already has enough on his mind. Don't go running to Optimus, either because I _doubt_ he can do _anything_ to help. In fact, he's done _enough_." His words came out bitter, and his eyes narrowed.

Zora nodded.

"I went to visit some old friends….you might remember them. Quinn and Sledge."

Zora's jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. She couldn't believe Drake had been _that _stupid, going to see two of her worst human enemies. She had thought that the two were out of her life, after they had broken her arm and gone to jail. Out of her life for good, but not out of her memory.

"You're all _buddy-buddy_ with Quinn and Sledge?" She said through clenched teeth. Her own fingers curled into deadly fist, and she could already feel her anger rising.

"Yeah, not my best idea," Drake muttered. His voice rose. "But that's not the point. The point is what they were hiding down in there crappy basement."

"Something bad, I suppose?" Zora snapped. Then, "no, duh. Those guys are crackheads. They sell illegal drugs. What could they possibly be hiding down there, other than alcohol and some meth?"

"It was an alien."

"An alien? Like, a full one, or, like, a small one. Like Dex?"

Drake shook his head and laced his long fingers together. "No. Nothing like that. It was an alien body part, not even _alive_."

"A dead one?"

"Not even that. It was, like, a body part. A finger, as Quinn said," Drake pursed his lips and met Zora's gaze. His cheeks were hallow as if he hadn't gotten enough nutrients. "I was being stupid, and I _touched_ it."

"Good one, Drake."

"I'm not joking when I say that it was _shocking_. Big ole' boom and I'm picking myself off the ground."

"Keep going. I need details."

Drake sighed and leaned up against the wall, closing his eyes. He was exhausted. Physically, and mentally. Zora had known him long enough to be able to tell his moods.

"I got all dizzy. Felt like I was going to puke. I could barely hold onto Arcee when she drove…she had to pull over, like, a million times to let me puke on the side of the road."

"So it made you sick," Zora said, summing it up. She tilted her head in curiosity and leaned against the wall, crossing her own arms. On a usual day, she would have called Drake out for lying. However, she had seen the supernatural…seen how big the universe really was. She had little doubt that Drake was making up a story to win her over.

"I'm not lying. It was the radiation. I don't feel bad now, but I don't know if it's deadly, or if its…I just don't know…." Drake's head dropped, and he sniffed. "Please, don't go to Ratchet about this. We need to check it out ourselves before we go running to the medic."

"Us…meaning _me_, right?" Zora said, raising her eyebrows. "No offense, man, but you look like crap."

"I know."

"Are you sure….Ratchet would know what to do."

Drake's head snapped back up, and he stared at Zora, a familiar hostility in his eyes. He was dead serious, and Zora knew it.

"_No_. No, no. Just…go ask Sam if you could 'borrow' Bumblebee. He'll take you on a quick spin around Synapsis. Go to the bookstore, and I'm sure Quinn and Sledge will be hiding out in there."

"They'll try and hurt me, you know that?"

"If they make a move, call Bee or something. He can be hostile when he wants to be."

"He'll give away his position," Zora pointed out, frowning. "He's _supposed_ to be undercover."

"A shitty government rule. If you're in danger, then Bee can help you. I'm sure Gigantor would be _grateful_."

There it was again. That bitterness in his voice that spoke volume about how much he hated Optimus. Zora spun and grasped the doorknob, turning it, hearing it click. She looked over her shoulder at Drake, who had returned to his position lying on his bed, on his stomach.

"I can pretty much take care of myself, Drake. Haven't I told you that already?"

* * *

><p>Optimus could not find Zora. But he found Drake. Heard him before he found him, coughing and cursing, staggering around his room, banging things around, making enough noise to wake a deaf man.<p>

Optimus crouched low next to Drake's room, thankful that the hallways were empty.

Drake didn't particularly care for him, he knew. And he didn't particularly care for Drake. And he was pretty sure it had to do with the fact that they both loved the same femme. But that didn't mean he wasn't obliged to take care of the boy, no. Drake was Zora's friend, and Zora would be upset if something happened to Drake. Optimus wasn't having any of that.

So, resisting the urge to just turn an walk away, he reached out to tap the door with his finger.

The door swung open before he could even touch it. And then, there was Drake, dead, hallow eyes staring out at him. He looked exhausted, worn out. Pale, and shaking like he was seeing a ghost. So many emotions wrapped into one, Prime thought.

"_What."_

His words were enough to make Optimus consider transforming and speeding away. But he steeled himself and managed to reply.

"Are you alright, Drake? Ratchet informed me that you were not feeling so well."

"Oh did he?" Drake's mouth pulled into a tight line and his eyes narrowed. Then, voice filled with venom, he said, "wonderful. Just what I need. The two of you hounding me all day."

"I apologize if I have caused you any discomfort," Optimus managed. "I just wanted to check - "

"Zora told you, didn't she?"

"What?"

But Drake continued. "I told her not to come to you…I told her…ugh. And I sent her off before I could…" Drake saw Optimus' startled expression and immediately shut his mouth, eye going rigid in a matter of seconds.

"Where did you send Zora?" Optimus asked, shuffling, kneeling down so he could look Drake straight in the eye and find out what other things he was hiding.

"I….she….I sent her to see a dude. Somewhere in Synapsis," Drake paused, steadying his deep breathing. Then, his gaze hardened and he stared up at Optimus. He said, "why do _you _care, man? You think I would send her somewhere dangerous? You aren't the only one who cares about her, you know. You act like you have sort of obligation to play the big, mean daddy who doesn't let us have any _fun_."

Optimus wanted to scream at Drake. But he calmed himself and shoved his face even closer to Drake, at least make him see that he was serious. Drake huffed and crossed his arms.

"In times like these,danger is _everywhere_," Optimus pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to make a sound of annoyance. "Nowhere is safe until the plague is contained, and it is my duty to be sure that no harm comes to Zora, and for that matter, any of our human allies."

"Whatever."

"What I do, I try to do for the good of this planet."

"Oh, so you're a saint now, too."

Enough. Drake was just spewing slag, and Optimus knew it. He stood to his full height, towering over Drake.

"I am going after Zora," he said simply, turning his back to Drake shoulders visibly hunched. Another night, he supposed. He turned to Drake to at least give him some type of warning, just to make sure he understood.

But Drake had already slammed the door shut.

* * *

><p>"Pull over here, Bee."<p>

Bumblebee obeyed. His tires squealed across the cracked pavement as he came to a stop, just in front of the old bookstore. Zora yanked open the door, shaking out her long red hair. She had been surprised when Sam had allowed her to take Bumblebee out, alone. He hadn't asked any question, he had just given her and Bee a curfew. Be back by ten. Who new robots had curfew, too? It was exactly like her old life, back before her involvement in the war, back before she knew about the Autobots and the Decepticons….

Whatever, she thought, just suck it up and go get the finger.

Bumblebee backed up a little, his headlights blinking off. He was trying to mimic concern.

"I'll be fine, Bee. Promise," Zora assured her, patting his hood, thought she had no idea what lay ahead of her. Quinn was the mastermind of the two, quick and cunning. Sledge brought the force. They both worked great together, and that was what worried Zora. Even with her power…she didn't know if she would be able to get past them. Especially if they had guns, which Zora was certain they would.

All she needed to do was get in, check out the Cybertronian part, and then get out before Quinn, or even Sledge, lost their cool and decided to bust a move.

Easy, right?


	29. Chase

She waltzed up to the door and knocked. Not a very stealthy approach, but an effective one, for as soon as her fist hit the door, it buckled and fell in, sending up a cloud of dust.

Zora blinked once. And then twice. She tilted her head to the side and poked her head through the door, bracing herself for any oncoming attacks. What had Quinn and Sledge rigged the place with? Explosives? Automatic guns that would fire once she stepped inside the premises? Or, were they hiding in the shadows, planning an ambush?

She stepped fully inside, hands raised, palms out. She didn't want to use her power, but she would if she had too.

A sudden honk from Bumblebee caused her to turn. He was driving behind a building, and she could just see a patch of his bright yellow armor disappear behind a dumpster. She sighed. Smart, as always. A bright, brand new Camaro sitting on the side of the road in a town like Synapsis would attract unwanted attention. And that was the last thing they needed.

Zora cleared her mind, and shook her head, getting back to the task at hand. She couldn't believe she was about to do this….technically, she was defying Prime's orders….by not telling him. But she had made a promise to her friend, and she had to keep it. She had always been about keeping promises.

Check in, check out. That was all she needed to do.

She let out a shaky breath as she slunk past bookshelf after bookshelf, each time, peeking behind one, and then drawing back out of fear that Quinn or Sledge would jump her.

"They wouldn't kill me…," she assured herself. "They would tie me down, beat me, and _then_ kill me."

That was how Quinn and Sledge were. Brutal and swift, sort of like her and Drake. If her and Drake were murderers.

And then, there were the bugs. Where were they? Hiding out somewhere? Waiting for Megatron's command? They were drones, after all, intelligent drones. But they didn't have the skill to plan and execute their own operations. That was all up to Megatron, who could control them like puppets.

Something wet splattered onto her face. Something wet, and sticky, and…._red._

She looked up and saw the blood leaking thought the upstairs floorboard.

She stepped on a piece of wood. It creaked, loudly, the sound like a moan.

Wait…..it _was _a moan. A long wail coming from upstairs. Zora spun towards the spiraling wooden stairs that looked like they would collapse any minute, and ran towards them, grabbing the railing and practically catapulting herself up each step.

She opened the door to a room. A room with two mattresses, no doubt where Quinn and Sledge slept, and a lamp. A bedside table. A dusty old closet that held barely any clothes. A window was beside one of the mattresses, its shades twisted and torn.

A hunched figure sat in the corner.

"Sledge?"

He raised his head, giving Zora a perfect view of his delirious, bloodshot eyes. He held out a shaky hand and pointed towards the other corner.

"T-They killed him. T-They came in…a-and they k-killed h-him," Sledge stammered, his hand shaking so badly that he had to draw it back and clasp it against his stomach. He pulled his legs tighter against his body, and Zora got a good glimpse of the blood running down his leg.

"You're hurt," she said softly. Then, she looked at Quinn.

What was left of Quinn was no longer recognizable as a human being. Zora felt like puking right there on the spot.

"Sledge, you need to tell me _everything_. What happened? What happened to Quinn?" Zora crouched down beside the boy. Sledge raised his head again and snarled.

"It's the _aliens_, Z, they're _real_. _Nobody_ believed me when I told the cops. They said that I was crazy. I came back and Quinn was…they _killed _Quinn and took the alien…thing, whatever it was…."

His words became so jumbled that Zora had a hard time understanding them. She silenced him by raising her hand.

"I believe you."

"You work for the aliens?" Sledge said, eyes widening. He scrambled back. "G-Get away f-from me! I-I didn't do anything!"

"I don't work for_ them_, Sledge, calm down!" Zora waved her hand. Sledge visibly relaxed, and inched a little closer to her. In the light, she could see his green eyes, sparkling with fresh fear. She actually felt bad for him…despite his role in her past. He didn't deserve to be a part of all this…like she was. And Quinn…..he didn't deserve a death like that.

"They're coming for you. They…t-they told me that they wanted you….and they searched the place looking for you."

"Who was it?"

"A giant robot. He turned into a cop car. He had a friend, too, a jet."

"Barricade and Starscream….." Zora murmured. She stood up, towering over Sledge, who shrunk away. She saw that he had a gun beside him, a shotgun. He hadn't even bothered to use it against her.

"Who?"

"Some old….friends of mine," Zora said sarcastically. "No. Not really."

Sledge cleared his throat and stood, picking up the gun and cradling in in his arms.

"They told me to…shoot you if you came," he stammered. "B-But I-I'm not."

"Really?"

"Y-Yeah," Sledge puffed out his chest in an attempt of bravery. However, his frame shook and his lips quivered. He was waiting for her to turn her back. She could tell.

"Look, Sledge, enough of the false bravado. We both know that they can kill us in a heartbeat. If you come with me, you'll be safe, and not have to work for them," Zora said, "I'm not lying. There are good robots, and bad robots. I'm with the good robots."

"I-I don't trust you."

Zora understood. Fear was clouding his judgment. She closed her eyes and let out a breath.

"I get it. But you're not safe here."

"You care about me?"

"No. But you don't deserve to _die_ by Decepticon _hands_," Zora said, looking out the window. Outside, a streetlamp flickered. Headlights blared. Bumblebee was outside, parked on the curb, waiting. "Just tell me what you need to know, and I can get you somewhere else."

"Your looking for the finger?" Sledge said, hobbling towards the window. His lips curled into a grimace when he saw the sleek Camaro.

"Yeah."

"They took it."

"What?" Zora grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. She stared into his twinkling green eyes, her own eyes narrowing. "What do you mean? They _took_ it?"

"I-I didn't complain when they did," Sledge crossed his arms. "I ain't going up against those two ton beast. I ain't suicidal."

Zora rubbed her temple. Great. All the work for nothing, and now, she was stuck in Synapsis in the middle of the night with one of her most dangerous human enemies.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a jet. Close by, so close that it sounded like it was right above the building.

Sledge's eyes widened and his mouth opened in a silent scream as the wall suddenly imploded.

Long talons dug into his waist, pulling him through the hole and into the night. His screams were high-pitched and deafening. She saw him in Starscream's palm, thrashing around, wailing, crying, and begging for mercy.

"Humans are _so_ undependable."

With a flick of a finger, Sledge's head was removed from his body. Starscream let the headless corpse slide off his palm and onto the street below.

"I can sense you, _girl_, come out come out to play!" Starscream bellowed gleefully, cackling madly as he reached through the hole. Zora screamed and scrambled away as his talons grasped for anything that moved. They knocked into the mattresses, into the table. Zora threw herself across the floor, sliding on something wet and sticky.

It was Quinn's blood. Zora ignored it, thought, and focused on getting away from the sharp claws.

"Come out, girl, before I am forced to bring you back too Megatron minus a few limbs!" Starscream called, poking his face through the hole. Zora gulped and stared into ruby red optics and a horrible leer. She raised her hands, palms up.

"Don't make me do this."

"You wouldn't have the _courage_."

"You'd be surprised."

Starscream reeled back and reached through again. Zora fired, the light singing his palm. It was a weak shot, poorly aimed, and she was knocked off balance when one of his claws swiped her off her feet. Her head bounced painfully against the wooden floor, and she saw stars.

Just as the roof was ripped away, revealing the Seeker in all of his glory. Zora blinked and looked up, cursing, making a mad dash towards the door that led downstairs.

"Making this a _game_, are we? Well, I _do _enjoy chasing my _prey_…" Starscream sneered as Zora tumbled down the stairs. She ran past bookshelves, knocking over chairs, tripping over dusty carpet, scared, worried…..

The sound of an engine, and an angry bellow. Bumblebee wasn't very happy.

"Get off me, you fragging Autoscum!" She heard Starscream roar.

Zora froze. Bumblebee, as great of a fighter he was, wouldn't be able to take on Starscream alone. Starscream was twice the size of the little scout.

"Bee! I'm coming!" Zora shouted. Not the best battle cry, but it would do. She would be able to help if her aim improved….

A shape slammed into the pavement just outside. A yellow shape that began to shift and change until it became a shiny yellow Camaro.

"Smooth, Bee," Zora murmured as she leapt over the fallen door and slid across the concrete. Bumblebee's door opened and Zora flung herself into the drivers seat, not even bothering to shut the door, for Bumblebee did it for her. She leaned back in the seat as revved his engine and took off, sending up a cloud of dirt and dust behind him.

"Is junior-Megatron following?" Zora asked, panting and twisting her neck to look into the rear-view mirror.

Bumblebee just chirped in response.

"I take that as a…." Zora heard the sound of metal against metal and she looked again. Sure enough, a jet passed overhead, flying low. "Yes. I take that as a yes."

Bumblebee chirped lowly.

_"Houston, we have a problem."_

"No duh." Zora replied. She let out a breath and leaned her head against the seat. What were powers if you didn't know how to use them? She had wanted to help Bee so badly….

_BAM!_

The ground in front of them exploded. Bumblebee swerved and Zora was violently thrown to the side.

"He has _missiles_?….oh, yeah, he's a _jet_," Zora winced and sat up, rubbing her temple. Bumblebee kept driving, seeming completely oblivious to the fact that Starscream was flying right above them, content to blast them both to oblivion. Zora let out a shaky breath and looked out the side window, peering behind her. The unmistakable glares of someone's headlights were getting closer and closer.

"Oh….Bee," Zora said quietly, "Starscream brought friend."

Bumblebee did not respond immediately. A moment later, he gave a small metallic click and took a hard left, his wheels screeching against the asphalt.

Barricade was still following, and Starscream was flying lower than ever.

Zora looked out the window again. If Bee transformed…he was as good as dead, and so was she. Bee could take on Barricade, he had done it before, but there was no way he could take on Barricade _and _Starscream, no matter how bad of a fighter Starscream was. The alien jet was twice Bumblebee's size. Heck, he had trouble with him _alone_.

They were oh-so screwed.

"Bee, roll down the windows. I think I can get a clear shot from this angle…" Zora said, squinting. Not even the streetlamps provided her with enough light to really see. The only target was two flashing strobes of light.

Bee obeyed and rolled down the window. He made no protest when Zora stuck out her head, and then an arm, and fired blindly.

A bellow. Then, the headlights flickered off. In the dark, she saw Barricade's hunched bipedal mode cradling his stomach.

"Bulls eye!" Zora cheered, and sank back into the seat.

_Bam!_

Another shot. This time, close. So close that Zora's world turned into a blur as Bumblebee transformed. She had never been inside a Cybertronian when they went from alt mode to bipedal mode….but now that she had, she could say that it made you stomach lurch and you limbs ache. Especially the part where you're thrown out of flung across hard asphalt.

She bounced once, and then twice, and then landed on her back.

"Damn…" she murmured, checking each limb. Nothing was broken. No blood. It was a miracle that she had gotten away unscathed.

Bumblebee, on the other hand, lay on his side. His optics flicked on, and then off, and then on again. But he did not get up.

Zora's blood ran cold.

"All right, where is that motherfu-"

Talons gripped her leg and yanked her backwards, and then spun her around and pinned her to the ground. Brilliant ruby red optics stared down at her in distaste.

Starscream didn't give one of his long, overbearing speeches. No. He looked way too pissed for something like that. He just raised a sharp talon and brought it down so it gently brushed against her throat.

She raised one hand to fire, but someone else pulled the trigger before her.

Starscream's arm exploded and hung loosely off his body. Wires popped. Sparks flew. He shrieked so loudly that Zora had to cover her ears, looked around frantically, and then transformed, slowly, and blasted himself away, disappearing into the night.

Zora coughed and sat up.

"Thanks, Bee," she said, staring at the little scout, who was slowly getting to his feet. He shook his helm and pointed to something behind Zora, something that was huge, and frankly, very, very, angry.

She turned her head, looked up at Optimus, and gave a hesitant smile.

"Hey….what are you doing here?"

"The _question_ is, what are _you _doing here?"


	30. Chaos

The drive back was uncomfortable, at the least. It seemed longer than it really was, and Zora sat in the cabin in the back, lying down on the surprisingly comfy sleeper, with humanized Prime right next to her. All the windows were tinted, and Zora supposed it was more for privacy than undercover.

Optimus' human eyes, thought, would not look away from her. They raked over her. He was observing her, it seemed, taking on her skin, her eyes, her hair, her slender figure….

"I'm sorry. It wasn't Bee's fault, I convinced him to take me…." Zora mumbled again. She had lost track of how many times she had apologized. Optimus didn't usually respond, thought. He acted like once was enough? As if Zora shouldn't apologize for almost getting Bumblebee killed. It irritated her. Where was the yelling? The accusations, the insults? That was how her parents usually dealt with her rambunctious behavior. Optimus was just the apposite.

Then again, Optimus wasn't her parent. He had another position in her life.

"I'm sorry…."

"You have apologized enough," Optimus said stiffly, no doubt trying to hide his disappointment. "I am just glad that you and Bumblebee are safe."

"You aren't mad?"

Optimus looked her dead in the eye as she sat up. He didn't need to use words to express his feelings. His expression told her everything. Yes, he was upset, disappointed, and a little hurt. But he didn't say it to her face. Not out loud.

"You left base without my approval," he finally said, staring out the window. "Not only did you put yourself in danger, but you also put Bumblebee – one of my own soldiers – in an equal amount of danger, too."

Zora bit her bottom lip and nodded. "Yeah."

"If anything were to happen to you…I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I would bear the guilt for the next millennium."

So, he cared about her that much. Zora's gaze softened, and she reached down and squeezed his hand.

"I was being stupid. I should have come to you first," Zora sighed. "I-I promised someone."

"Drake?"

"How did you know?"

"You care for him a great deal," Optimus said. "I can see it. The way you speak about him. The way you act when you are with him….he loves you, Zora."

There was something else beneath his eyes, even if they were just an illusion. A fake.

Zora gulped. Drake loved her, and she cared about him….but she didn't want him in that way. She never had. Never would. She wanted someone else.

"I love him like a brother. Nothing more."

"It reminds me of Megatron…before the war," Optimus was talking to himself now. "Before our planet was destroyed. We were brothers. Bickering constantly over the most senseless things."

"Like girls?"

"Yes. Even femme's," Optimus glanced at her and smiled. "But our relationship crumbled and thus started a thousand year rivalry that I would do anything to terminate."

Zora gulped. What did you say to that? Optimus had faced millions of years of war. He had felt pain. And loss. And betrayal. He wasn't just some mechanical puppet, like Drake thought he was. He was a living being with a soul, and a strong soul at that.

He had seen things that humans dream of in there own nightmares. There was no way her own mind would be able to comprehend any of it, even if he laid it out in front of her using words.

Bullshit. "I understand?" saying something like that was complete bullshit.

He just leaned over and pulled her close so he could nuzzle her throat. The gesture sent waves of warmth coursing up Zora's body.

"I lost Megatron….He betrayed me. He betrayed all those who cared for him."

"He thought you did the same?"

"In a way, I did," Optimus rumbled against her throat. Zora was surprised at how quickly he could go from pissed, to calm and gentle. Most people were never like that. Unlike him, they held grudges that could last forever.

Zora pulled away and shook her head.

"Do you love me?" She asked him. His eyes widened, and he swallowed. The question had caught him off guard, and he did a bad job at trying to hide it. She said, "I'll take a grunt or a short nod for an answer."

"I-I…." he stammered. Zora grinned.

"Heh," she chuckled. "You look so cute when you're all nervous like that…."

He mumbled something. Something that Zora barely caught, and her eyes widened for a moment, more out of shock than happiness.

"Is that a yes?"

Optimus nodded.

* * *

><p>Chaos. The base was in chaos when they got back.<p>

A massive hole was in the side of the base. It had been blown out from the inside, hence the fact that most of the rubble was littered across the grass. Someone had broken out, and not in, and Zora had a vague idea of who it was, thought her heart did not want to believe it.

Zora stepped over a fallen piece of rubble. Soldiers were searching through it to find survivors, others were screaming for help under slabs of rock. She saw Ratchet scrambling in and out of the med bay. The poor Medic was dealing with a lot, and Zora felt bad for him.

All she could do was stare at the destruction.

"Oh my God…." She whispered, approaching the massive hole. It was big enough that even Optimus himself could fit through it. Strangely, nothing was burn, and indication that someone hadn't set off a bomb. It was like someone had decided to shove through the wall with their hands.

"Decepticon's?" Zora asked as Optimus let her hop off his palm and onto the ground, which was littered with dust and dirty. She grimaced as she heard someone approaching from behind.

"Not Decepticon's," Lennox said, stepping over a huge piece of brick. "Your buddy, Drake. He went berserk."

"Major, I do not understand," Optimus rumbled, kneeling down on his knee plating, joints creaking. His own optics surveyed the damage. "You're saying that a human boy did this?"

"Human….Cybertronian….nobody knows what he is," the Major mumbled, and shrugged. "Frankly, I'm starting to believe that he's a wizard. It wouldn't be a surprise, considering how screwed up the world already is."

Zora let out a shaky breath and smoothed back her hair. They hadn't even been gone two hours….and they get back to find the base half destroyed. Unlike Optimus, she did not doubt that it was Drake who was responsible. She had seen him before. She had seen the unstable look in his eyes, seen that he was on the brink of insanity. But it didn't make sense that he would try and get past a whole army of Autobot's and humans.

But what really baffled her was how he had managed to pull it off.

The hole in the wall was definitely caused by a human.

"Drake wouldn't hurt people," Zora whispered, staring at the ground. Lennox shuffled his feet and put a hand on her shoulder.

"He attacked Sam."

"What?"

"Sam tried to stop him. Drake flicked his wrist and Sam went flying across the room like he had been hit by a truck."

Zora's mouth dropped open. Sam….

"Is Sam okay?" She asked frantically, glancing at the med bay when she saw Ratchet stumble through its doors, again.

"He's being treated by Ratchet," Lennox said curtly. "And speaking of Ratchet, he's looking for you both."

Optimus tilted his helm and turned his head to look towards the med bay.

"Thank you, Major. As soon as we get most of the Autobots up and running, we will send a search team out for Drake." He leaned down and scooped Zora into his palm, thundering towards the med bay.

"We've been waiting for you," Ratchet said coldly as Optimus entered with Zora in his palm. Ratchet shot the human a nasty look, one that Zora saw quite clearly, and gestured to where Sam was sitting on the table. Mikaela sat beside him, holding his hand.

"What goes on?" Zora said casually, hopping of Optimus' palm. He turned and pulled Ratchet into a corner, whispering to him frantically. She huffed and turned towards Sam, who was massaging his wrist. He looked down at the table, refusing to meet Zora's gaze.

"Drake."

"It couldn't have been him…."

The more she said it, the more she knew it was true.

She trailed off. There was nothing else she could really say. She didn't have control over Drake, and as she thought about it, it was kind of her fault. She had asked for Bumblebee, so he had not been there for his human charge. She hadn't been there to calm Drake down, and Sam had stepped up, only to get himself blasted across the room. Optimus had to leave to go rescue her sorry butt.

Guilt. She felt guilty.

She rubbed her eyes, finding that they were wet. Great, she was crying again. She had been doing it a lot lately….more than she had in over eighteen years. She hadn't cried when Quinn and Sledge had broken her arm. She hadn't cried when her parents would slap her. She hadn't cried at school, when she had been harassed and bullied by kids ten times her size. The Parker family, in general, just did not cry.

"It's not your fault," Mikaela said gently, touching her shoulder. "Nobody could have known…."

"Yeah. I guess."

"Some of the soldiers are blaming Optimus for this," Sam said quietly. He shot Ratchet and Optimus a look, but they appeared not to have heard.

"He had nothing to do with it," Zora said acidly. "He wasn't there to…."

Do anything. He hadn't been there to stop Drake because of her. Because Drake had sent her away to carry out an impossible task and she had been blind enough to listen to him. And now, since nobody would put the blame on a nineteen year old civilian who had supposedly been on the base the whole time, the blame would go to Optimus. He was the Autobot leader after all.

"He tricked me," Zora snarled. "The little punk tricked me."

"Surprised?"

Zora turned to Sam, teeth bared. "Yeah. I am. We're friends!"

"_Were_ friends!" Sam hissed.

"Sam!" Mikaela exclaimed. However, her boyfriend wasn't done just yet.

"I just don't get it. Why do you keep defending him? He's just been using you this whole time!"

Zora clenched her fist and closer her eyes. "Sam, he loves me."

"You honestly think that?" Sam said softly. Zora clenched her eye shut tighter and another tear trickled down her cheek. "Zora, it seems you're the one being ignorant."

Zora opened her eyes and saw Mikaela shoot her an apologetic look. Sam just scowled and shook his head, rubbing his fingers across his broken wrist. He looked worn and tired, a state that Zora was used to seeing him in.

"I'll go get him myself. He'll listen to me."

"With what, Zora?" Sam's head snapped up, and he narrowed his eyes. "That pitiful laser of yours? Did you even see what he did out there? The boy blasted a thirty foot hole in the wall and walked out of a _military_ base without a scratch."

"So?"

"So?" Sam echoed. "Where were you when this went down, Zora?"

"I was trying to…I had to…"

"Out trying to platy Zora Parker, defender of the weak?"

"How is that a bad thing?" Zora replied shrilly.

"I don't walk around acting all high-and mighty," Sam replied bitterly. "Me? I'm used to being a third-class citizen. I don't have a laser to back to up."

"I'll go after him," Zora said boldly, "I'll do something right for a change."

"You think you can take him on?" Sam snapped.

Mikaela, who had been surprisingly quiet, cut in suddenly. "Sam's right, Zora. You don't even know where Drake is, or if he's working with the…..Decepticons."

"He wouldn't."

"He would," Sam said. "The kid's got some serious mojo. Power. Decepticon's love power."

Zora shook her head and scooted away from Sam and Mikaela. They didn't get it. They didn't know Drake like she did.

She looked over at Optimus. He and Ratchet were finished talking, and Optimus was focused on her now. She could see it twinkling in his optics that he loved her. No doubt. He walked over, each step seeming to shake the metal table. One finger descended down to touch Zora's chin and lift it up so she got a clear view of his metal face.

"Zora, you need to tell Ratchet everything that you saw."

She looked at Ratchet and nodded. The medic spoke.

"I have a theory."


	31. Traitor

**I read the story through again, and I realized that the plague is becoming more and more of a side issue. I actually intended it to be the main problem in the story, but I got caught up in a lot of other plot points….but don't worry. The Plague will have its purpose soon. You'll see.**

**I don't own it. Never have, never will.**

* * *

><p>"Whoa, wait….so you're saying that my friend is being inhabited by an ancient Prime that betrayed his…brothers?" Zora said. Sam rolled his eyes at the girl, who seemed to be the only one in the room having trouble believing Ratchets theory. But who was he to blame her? Drake was her <em>friend<em>….or, _was_ her friend. Each second, she was showing signs of doubt. She sat beside Mikaela, looking nervous. Especially since Ratchet was pressuring her into telling him where she had been. He wanted all the juicy details, and it seemed like Zora couldn't get a word out before Ratchet countered it.

He remembered Drake flinging him across the room with his weird power. No. Drake was no friend of there's. If Zora wanted to defend him herself, he could, without his help. He wanted nothing to do with the psychopath.

Sam watched the way her head hung. He watched the way Optimus stood behind her, one finger gently stroking her back in slow circles. Sam bit his lip to keep from commenting. He didn't want to believe that she and Optimus were in some kind of relationship…but every second they were together, they showed signs of one.

"Mind control?" Mikaela inquired. She tilted her head, curious.

"Something along the lines of that," Ratchet said, shrugging his massive shoulders. "Although, it appeared that Drake still had _some_ control over his body when he went on a rampage."

Sam shook his head in disgust, not caring that Zora was shooting him a glare that could melt ice. They had to add Drake to the list of things that needed to be dealt with. Him, the bugs, and the Decepticons. Luckily, they were all linked together. Destroy one, and you had a clear shot at the rest.

"What do we do?" Zora said, her voice stricken. She glanced at Sam and shook her head. "Alien boy over there wants to completely destroy him."

"_When _did I say that?"

"I can see it in your eyes," Zora said. Then, she leaned back as Optimus gently touched her back again. Mikaela saw it, Sam saw it, and even Ratchet seemed to notice. He shot Optimus a look, and the Autobots leader pulled back his finger and cleared his throat.

"As I told Zora, we will send out a search team in an attempt to capture Drake," Optimus looked down at Zora, who was staring up at him. "Yes. We will bring him back alive."

"Optimus….no disrespect, but you have not _seen_ what he can do," Ratchet spoke up, stepping forward. "It will take more than a few of our best soldiers to take him down."

"That's why _I_ should go after him. He'll _listen _to me. He wouldn't hurt me," Zora mumbled. Mikaela shot her a look and Sam just shook his head. She was stubborn alright.

"If Drake's mind is indeed lost, then he will _not _hesitate to inflict damage on you," Ratchet rumbled, almost looking a little bit angry. "You are _not _a leader, Zora. The _decision_ is not _yours _to make. Get that through your thick skull."

"Ratchet…." Optimus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She only wants to help her friend."

"So you will let her accompany you? You know what The Fallen is like…."

Sam and Mikaela perked up. Zora stared blankly.

"Wait, _The Fallen _is back?" Sam struggled to his feet. Ratchets gaze tore away from Optimus and focused on Sam, who was doing his best not to shout. He hoped he has misunderstood what medical officer had said….The Fallen being back was worse than the bugs.

"The Fallen? That weirdo Decepticon who looks like Santa Clause on drugs?" Zora said, her eyebrows rising. "That's the freak who's invading Drake's mind?"

"He's _dead_!" Mikaela exclaimed. "Optimus ripped up his face!"

Ratchet and Optimus both sighed.

"Zora told us that Drake touched something. A finger, that, apparently belonged to The Fallen. His spark was extinguished, but, like the incident with your grandfathers glasses, Sam, whatever remnants of his memory were left transferred from the finger and into Drake."

"So he's like a walking reincarnation of The Fallen….just ten times more destructive, and actually able to think for himself," Mikaela said. "I'm guessing he'll try and return to his Decepticon buddies and take control. Much to Megatron's distaste."

"Yeah," Sam said. "What make you think Megatron will take any of that shit. He's was _relieved_ when his old master hit the off-ramp."

Optimus and Ratchet were both silent. Their blue optics focused intently on the children. Sam could tell that Optimus was struggling not to say something, but finally, he broke.

"Megatron was The Fallen's….subordinate. His successor. It only made sense that The Fallen had a firm grip on Megatron's mind, too."

"He _influence_ him," Zora murmured. "Sick bastard."

"_Now _do you see why Drake wouldn't so much as flinch if he sent you flying into a tree? He won't have control of himself," Ratchet said, twirling a wrench in his hand. It occurred to Sam that he and Optimus were the most stressed out of all the bot's. With Ratchet being the CMO, he practically had to live in the med bay. Taking care of the plague, helping the injured Autobots, and now, he had to deal with Drake, The Fallen in human form. Sam didn't doubt that Ratchet would pour everything into his research now that they had discovered Drake's….symptom. Sam felt bad for the bot'.

Optimus was just stressed, period. More than Sam had ever seen him.

"But he has his own personal needs, too," Mikaela said, standing on the metal table and stretching her long legs. Sam couldn't help but stare. "His last shred of himself. There's no telling when The Fallen will take over, so if we want to bag Drake, we should bag him when he has some idea about what he's doing."

Sam saw the small smile playing at the corner of Ratchet's lip plating. He twirled the wrench once, and then twice before letting it clatter onto the metal table beside Zora. The human girl jumped.

"I was just thinking the exact same thing."

* * *

><p><em>Get up.<em>

Drake didn't want to get up. He just wanted to lay down on the soft grass and _sleep. _He rolled over, eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out the voice in his head.

_Get up, you pathetic insect._

It was back, again, filling his very conscious, thundering around in his head like some violent drumbeat, _boom, boom, boom, _banging around and around like it would never stop. Drake clutched his head squeezing his eyes shut.

Get out of my head. He tried to scream but his mouth wouldn't work right and his tongue felt all weird, like it was covered in glue. His words came out in a jumbled mess.

And then, as his eyes snapped open to the world around him, there was a moment of crystalline clarity.

He opened his eyes and lay on his back. He was in a forest.

Alone.

But how had he gotten there? His memory was hazy, ripped into fragments. Like shattered glass, painful to think, painful to see or hear or do anything for that matter.

He had thrown Sam across the room, he remembered. Thrown him and watched him scream as he twirled and twirled through the air….

Broken. Like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

But that wasn't what was bothering Drake. No, there was something else, too, something he had told himself he was going to do. He had taken care of that arrogant, vain Autobot, Sunstreaker with a flick of his wrist. Had sent him flying into his cocky brother, the one who always stared at Drake as if he were some hideous, diseased animal.

Mikaela had been screaming at him. Screaming and screaming like she would never stop.

But it hadn't been her. Couldn't have been her. He had left her alone for some reason. It was the Autobots he really wanted, really wanted to die. Sam had just gotten in his way and he had done something about it. The Autobots, the Cybertronian's, were the key.

They represented Optimus Prime, who, with every fiber of his being, Drake loathed.

He hated Optimus. Hated him with a burning passion that had spread through his black heart. Whatever was inside him, whatever creature had possessed his mind and was using him like a puppet, was using Drake's rage to fuel its own plans.

_Get up._

"No."

Drake clutched his head again. His mind was no longer his, he realized. It belonged to a putrid, old Cybertronian who had died years ago after attempting to blow up the sun. And that creature was still very, very alive, even if his new form wasn't as convenient as his last. But he had his soldiers to back him up, had his army or bugs with their mandibles ready to kill.

The Fallen was back, and he wanted revenge.

Again.

* * *

><p>Drake was its slave, but he had his own needs to take care of first.<p>

Drake wanted Optimus Prime. His master did, too, but not as much as Drake wanted. He wanted to see the mighty Autobot leader broken, twisted, dying and utterly at the mercy of Drake Talent.

He would die first because he was the key. Take out Prime and Drake would be able to handle the rest.

Drake slipped through the trees, quick as a mouse, approaching the house from behind. It was a smaller house nestled in the woods, a long dirt road leading out to miles and miles of road and swampland. He didn't know how far he was from the base, but knew he had run a good distance after he had lost control.

He just needed a hostage. Or maybe hostage_s_.

He knew who lived here. His master knew because his master knew everything there was, really. He guided him. Told him what to do and how to do it and promised him rewards.

The window was open and noise filtered out. He could hear the sound of two men arguing, their discussion as interesting as two dogs barking back and forth.

_Hurry. My troops await._

"Shut up," Drake whispered, and crept onward. Up to the door. The two men hadn't even seen him yet.

"Just _one_," Simmons was pleading, and Drake took notice that Simmons rarely ever pleaded. It was a new thing for him.

"Man, you know how much these things cost?"

Drake peered through the window and looked what was laying out on the coffee table, out there, like some hideous display.

The bug was dead. Red eyes unblinking, limbs unmoving. Mandibles inactive.

Hank wasn't a very scary man. Tall, like Simmons, with an accent. Medium build. Kind-of-sort-of good looking, in Drake's eyes.

Eh. He wasn't important. A nonentity. But Drake had scored the jackpot. Simmons was…well….

Important but not important. A human. But it didn't matter because Drake knew that the mighty Optimus Prime, defender of peace and justice and yada, yada, yada, wouldn't let any harm come to any of his human allies, no matter who they were.

Drake knocked on the door. Through the window he saw Simmons eye the bug curiously, then hesitantly pick it up and throw it back into the cardboard box, close it slowly, and then sit back down and run his hands through his hair. He was edgy and nervous. Rattled by something, and Drake thought he knew exactly what that was.

Hank answered the door, mouth open to tell the visitor off. He was holding a cup of hot tea but when he saw Drake, his hand began to shake and he paled, as if he had seen a ghost.

"_Evening_, fella's."

He could have sworn he heard the voice chuckle


	32. Grip

"Ah, Mr. Talent. A pleasure to see you here," Simmons sneered. "I would ask you to sit…but it seems like you're in a hurry. Explains why you didn't bother to ask for permission to enter someone elses house."

"_My _house, thank you very much," Hank said. He wasn't doing a very good job at sounding brave. His hands were shaking, sending hot tea dripping over the cup he was holding. He gently set it down and gulped. "Simmons, do you know this kid?"

"Old friend of mine."

"More like an old foe," Drake said, circling the couch. He pulled his jacket tighter as a cold wind swept through the open doorway and into the room.

"Did I get on your bad side?" Simmons said, leaning back into the couch. He laced his fingers together and stared up at Drake, head tilted, dark eyes twinkling with curiosity. He smirked at him. _Smirked _at him, like he was just some little kid.

_Finish him._

"Wait," Drake murmured. "He could be useful."

"W-Who are y-you talking too?" Hank asked, his teeth chattering.

Drake turned on him and snarled, flicking his wrist. Hank went flying, a blur in the air, and smashed into the wall on the far side of the room. Long cracks appeared in the plaster as he slid down the wall, blood trickling out of he corners of his mouth. Oh, he was going to have a few broken limbs when everything was over.

Drake hopped over the back of the couch and sat where Hank had been sitting, moments earlier. Simmons was still in the same position, legs crossed, hands laced together in his lap. But this time, he was deathly pale. Drake saw the fear in his eyes. He wasn't dealing with an actual Decepticon, he was dealing with a human with the mind of one. And he knew that he had to listen up.

"You don't want to be like Hank over there, do you," Drake jerked a chin towards a moaning Hank. "Look, Simmons, I won't kill you."

Simmons relaxed.

"Yet," Drake added, seeing his relief. "I won't kill you, _yet._"

Something had slammed into the back of Drake's head. He saw stars. He spun and saw Hank behind him, a crowbar in both hands, struggling to stand up. He raised his again, ready to deliver the next blow.

Drake had recovered more swiftly than he had thought he would. The strange creature in his head had pulled him back into reality.

He raised his hands and Hank was flying in the air.

Simmons made a break for it, scrambling towards the door. Drake smirked and threw Hank, not up, or to the side, but down. As Hank fell Drake's other hand shot out, and Simmons was running against an invisible wall, feet kicking madly.

Hank had gone through the floor and down into the basement. He heard the sickening crunch of bone against concrete, then a scream that was abruptly cut off when Drake moved his wrist and, with his power, pushed the couch through the hole.

He dragged Simmons towards him.

_Kill him, my disciple._

"No! He has his uses," Drake hissed, lifting Simmons higher so he hovered above the hole. He let his hands drop to his sides, letting the man fall.

He heard the crunch, and then a scream. Apparently, he had missed the couch completely.

Drake leaped through the hole and landed on the couch, feeling in creak under his weight. He stamped on it once, and did not hear Hank moan from underneath. It was obvious that the alien dealer was dead.

"So, Simmons," Drake said conversationally, hopping off the couch. "I'm a _Decepticon _now. Surprise?"

Simmons tried to prop himself up on one arm. He shrieked as it gave way with a repulsive snap. It hung limp off his shoulder, dislocated. Blood ran freely from his nose and his ears.

Oh, yeah. He had taken a pretty hard fall.

Drake looked around the basement. It was bare except for a few boxes stuffed with clothes and a….oh, what's this?

Drake sauntered over to a box. He could see the butt of a gun sticking out of the box. He pulled it free and cradled it like a baby, loving the feel of it in his hands. He checked. It was loaded. Smiling with glee, Drake walked back over to Simmons, who was trying to crawl towards the stairs.

He knelt down and pressed the barrel of the gun against his forehead.

"No snappy remark? Or is the pain getting to you?" Drake sneered, nudging his shoulder with his foot. The man shuddered, but did not speak or make a move.

"…"

"Nothing?" Drake said, pretending to be disappointed. "Hm. A shame. Now listen close, Seymour, listen very, very close."

"I-I'm listening."

"I'm going to keep you with me for now and let you live," Drake whispered in his ear. "Your valuable to the Autobots. They'll want you back. But if you so much as look at me like your going to pull a move…if you so much as look at me _wrong_…I'll kill you, Simmons. I beat you, stab you, and fling you around until you are a sack of _goo_. Then, I'll leave you somewhere the Autobots can't find you, and leave you to _die._"

Simmons nodded.

"Understand?"

He nodded.

"_Say it_."

"I-I understand."

Simmons didn't say anything else, and Drake kicked him in the stomach.

_"Prepare my troops."_

Drake rolled his eyes and smirked when Simmons whimpered, clutching his arm, curled up into a little ball.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Drake shook his head and clicked his tongue. He looked like a madman, probably, talking to someone who wasn't there. "Your troops."

_"They will find you, and follow you. Finally, after a millennium of seeking revenge, chaos shall reign across this miserable little planet. And you, my disciple, will be a witness to it all."_

Drake grinned.

* * *

><p>"Are you done with the scanning? It tingles," Zora mumbled. Ratchet was giving her a checkup…as if she hadn't had one before. He was worried that Zora had been exposed to the radiation like Drake had. She had tried to explain to him that she wasn't hearing any voices or feeling the urge to blast anything in sight. Besides, she had a Prime pretty much inhabiting her body at the moment. It probably acted as a radiation repellant or something.<p>

"Sit up," Ratchet commanded. Groaning, Zora obeyed and sat up, stretching her arms. She let her legs dangle off the edge of the Autobots sized table and stared curiously at Ratchet.

"So I won't, like, grow two heads or anything?" Zora asked.

"Negative. It seems that you are in perfect health…or, the human definition of perfect health," Ratchet frowned and stepped away, letting the data pad he was holding clatter onto the metal table beside Zora. She jumped.

"Jeez, man, one day your gonna smash me with one of those…." Zora rubbed her arm and frowned. "Anyway, I'm sure Optimus will be relieved to hear that I'm not turning into a Drake."

"Yes…he will," Ratchet shot her a look. "He seems anxious to hear a report."

Zora blushed, and Ratchet noticed. The medic sighed and shook his head.

"What?" Zora inquired.

"That Prime….he's always been a sucker for attractive femme's," Ratchet snorted. "I just never expected that he would want to give his spark to a _human_ femme."

Zora laced her fingers together, embarrassed. Ratchet was always so attentive. He observed and noted, and that actually helped the Autobots a great deal. Some of the things he noticed, though, Zora would have rather kept between herself and Optimus. Maybe he had seen them at the lagoon that one night….hopefully not. He didn't seem to be rambling on about it.

"It surprised me too," Zora admitted, shrugging. It was true. Why had he picked her? There weren't that many Cybertronian femme's around, but the ones Zora had observed, fit him perfectly. Even if he had a taste for humans….why had he wanted her? Why not….Maggie Madson, or even Mikaela? They all had history with the Autobots.

Although, it was too late for Maggie. And Zora didn't think Sam would appreciate Optimus Prime stealing his girlfriend.

"Hm. You must mean a lot to him," Ratchet said. He didn't sound so happy about her and Optimus, but Zora ignored it and just sat on the table, swinging her legs back and forth.

"Any news about the plague?"

"_No_," he growled.

Zora huffed at the snide remark and decided that it was best that she not ask any more questions. He seemed like he didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment, and Zora sighed.

"I'm going to go find Optimus."

She looked down at the drop.

"A little help?" she said, gesturing downwards. "Unless you want me to free-fall?"

Ratchets hand came out of nowhere and wrapped around her waist. She yelped as he brought her down, not slow, but fast, letting her drop before she was even a foot off the ground. She stumbled and looked back; shooting Ratchet a spiteful look, seeing that he had already gone back to his data pad.

"Later…" she mumbled, and walked out the door, hands in her pockets.

She hadn't even gotten halfway to the boss' bot's office when a thud snapped her out of her thoughts. She spun and saw Arcee roll up beside her, a sullen expression washing over her metal features.

"Hey," Zora mumbled. Arcee had been Drake's temporary guardian, but had had the most impact on him since coming to the base. She looked even more hurt and betrayed than Zora. Maybe it was because she had loved him like a brother, too. Zora wasn't sure, and she wasn't about to ask. The only thing she knew was that she was one of the only Autobots who wanted Drake back as much as Zora did.

"How are you doing?"

Always the one to put others first.

"Fine," Zora mumbled. Then, "no, I'm not doing fine. God, Arcee, he betrayed us!"

"We'll bring him back," she whispered. She didn't even have to crouch down, for she was shorter than most Cybertronians, to wrap an arm around Zora's shoulder and squeeze. Her arm was heavy, of course, but it radiated with warmth.

The gesture almost brought tears to Zora's eyes.

"Thanks," Zora said, sniffing. She looked at Arcee, who was rolling beside her. Then, Zora let out a breath and clenched her fist. " Yeah. We'll bring him home. Both of us."

"He talked about you all the time, you know," Arcee said, standing to her full height. She wasn't as intimidating to Zora, like the other were. She was only a few feet taller than Zora, but she had the aura of a warrior. Zora liked that about her. Plus, she hadn't gone off about how horrible Drake was the second she had started talking to her.

"He cared about me. I know."

Arcee nodded, her blue optics full of pity. Zora sighed.

"Yeah," she said. "I know. I get it a lot."

* * *

><p>Zora's eyes opened and she propped herself up onto her elbows, staring up at Optimus' metallic face, grinning.<p>

It was the first time she had actually smiled in days. A genuine, true smile, and that filled her with joy. As long as Prime got something out of, something to at least lift his descending spirits. He had said, once, that he liked her smiles.

Except for he hadn't used the word like. He had used the word love.

"Do you want to talk?" Optimus asked.

Zora smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared and she found herself letting her head hit the soft sand. She was silent for a moment, listening to the waves slapping against the shore of the lagoon – _their_ lagoon. They had called it a while back, and she knew it was where Optimus loved to go when he was stressed.

It was the perfect place to think, Zora thought. Think and relax, which she desperately needed to do.

"Drake was…" Optimus tried to find the right words and Zora knew that he was lost because Optimus Prime _always _knew what to say and how to say it.

"Out of control, I know. A monster."

"That's not what I was going to say, and you know it," Optimus tilted his head to stare down at her.

"Sorry. I just…" Zora shivered as a cold wind tickled her skin.

"I understand."

Zora pinched the bridge of her nose, suddenly trying to shut out an oncoming migraine. Optimus shifted a little, sending up little puffs of sand.

A metallic crackle and suddenly he was there. Black hair wavy and blue eyes filled with concern.

"Are you cold?"

Way to change the topic. Zora shook her head but leaned into his embrace anyway, resting her head against his chest, the contact certainly not as awkward as before. He was getting better and better at human intimacy, Zora realized.

Zora reached up and brushed her fingers against his lips.

"Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Zora," Optimus rumbled. "I don't mean to add to any discomfort, but really, if there is anything you want to talk about…"

"You act like you want to talk about it."

"I'm just trying to help."

"I know. And I'm just being as ass," Zora shook her head. "You probably don't want someone like that, really. It's why Drake probably left."

"Zora…" he groaned. "Hear me and_ listen_, Zora. Drake did not leave because of you."

The firmness of his words was enough to make Zora want to drop the topic. She pressed herself against his, close, so close. And he was leaning against her, lips hovering over her forehead.

"It must be weird for you," Zora said after a moment later. "I mean, being this close to a humans and all."

"This is the closest I have ever been to one of your kind," he replied. "And I must say it is even more fascinating than I had imagined."

"What do I look like to you? I mean, coming from a different species and all, I must look…"

"You look gorgeous, Zora."

It was as if someone had pumped her heart full of hydrogen and it had decided to burst.

Zora batted her eyelashes. A shameless, obvious attempt at what she thought was flirting. It got Optimus' attention pretty well because before she knew it he was leaning down and pressing his lips firmly against hers.

It was like her first kiss all over again. But this one was literally shocking. Hands waist, gently guiding her down. Feelings flying through her head at hyper speed, so fast that he only thing she could do was _react_ – and that made the experience a whole lot more endearing.

Her phone was ringing but she didn't answer it because she was too engulfed in the sensations of lips and tongues and hands….

Optimus pulled away, leaving Zora laying there, gasping for air.

"Answer it," he said, pointing to her phone, giving it a glare. "I know who it is."

Zora picked up her phone and answered it, holding close to her ear, gasping when she heard that familiar voice she had so desperately been trying to shut out.

"What do you want?" she breathed. She saw Optimus slide up beside her, his blue eyes narrowed.

"Nothing, love, I just wanted to speak to my best friend," Drake sneered. That voice…that tone…it wasn't like him. And when had he started to call her "love"? It irritated Zora, and for a split second, she contemplated on just hanging up and going back to Optimus.

"What the hell do you want, Drake," Zora snarled, standing up. Optimus joined her, deactivating his holoform and transforming to his true height.

"What was that?" Drake suddenly said. "Is _he _with you? Are you with that pathetic, alien scum? What have you two been doing?"

"Is that any of your business?" Zora barked. She looked up at Optimus, who frowned.

"Maybe, maybe not. Hey, at least I'm showing some concern for you," she heard a wail, and then a, "shut the hell up!"

"Who is that?"

"Simmons. We're holding him captive."

"So you want money," Zora said, lowering her voice. It didn't help, of course. Optimus was recording the whole conversation. He could hear it perfectly clear.

"Nope. We want you. You and Optimus," Drake said conversationally. Zora heard a bang, more curse words, and then a thud. She waited for Drake to continue speaking. "Ah, sorry, Barricade has anger issues. As I was saying, the Decepticon's were relieved to hear of their old master."

"The Fallen," Zora murmured. "Drake, I know about that. He's in your mind, he's controlling you. Don't listen to him…"

"Whatever," Drake clicked his tongue. "Is Gigantor listening? I bet he is. Tell him that Megatron wants to invite him over to chat."

Zora looked up. Optimus cringed and stepped away, sending up clouds of sand. Zora could tell that he wanted to get away, fast. He wasn't trying to hide it.

"Anyway, back to the ransom. You see, Zora, I was able to meet up with Simmons a while ago. Nice guy and all, but he's with the Autobots….so…we decided to hold him for a while."

"Give up, Drake," Optimus boomed. "You have lost whatever sense you had left."

"Shut up, you pitiful tin can!" Drake barked, and Zora jumped back, holding the phone away from her body and snarling. Grimacing, she put it on speakerphone so Optimus could listen without having to try.

"Drake….what is the meaning of this?" Optimus said, crouching down behind Zora. His face was just beside hers, and Zora held the phone up a little higher.

"Seymour Simmons. You have three days to come and get him. Zora better be there, too, or else he hits the off-ramp," Drake said. He paused. "Ah, right, Fearless Leader doesn't know that much about Earth slang yet. Optimus, off-ramp means dead. Offline…erm…whatever you freaks call it."

"W-Wait, how are we supposed to find you?" Zora stammered.

Through the phone, Zora heard Drake give an irritated sigh. Then, there was a bang, and another curse. "_Starscream_, what did I tell you about….oh, God, its like living with a bunch of animals….anyway, I'll send you the coordinates from the phone. Just track the damn phone if you need too….I really don't have time for an more chat. Megatron's all over my ass for hogging the…..ugh…..never mind….anyway, I'll see you soon, love."

He hung up.

Zora sank too her knees and let the phone hit the sand. Shock was written all over her features.

"How could he?"

Optimus placed a finger on her back, rubbing it in slow circles. For once, the gesture did not calm Zora. It only made her more anxious.

"We will find him and rescue Simmons. I assure you," Optimus said. "Whatever Drake's plan is….."

"He probably doesn't even have a real plan," Zora said. "Except to ambush us on the way. I could hear it in his voice. He's planning something else, something big," she looked back up at Optimus. "I'm going."

"No, you are not."

"Yes, I am." Zora stood, looking down at her phone. How would she know if it was a Decepticon or not? How would she know if it was rigged to explode? Right now, Drake and the Decepticon's had the upper hand.

"You aren't ready," Optimus said, putting enough steel in his voice to make Zora flinch. He stood back up to his full height, staring out at the ocean. "Drake is far more dangerous than any of us could have imagined."

"He's not the same goofy kid I used to know…." Zora whispered. She reached down and picked up her phone, running her fingers across it. She was right. Drake had changed for the worse. But he was still her friend, Decepticon or not.


	33. Betrayal

Arcee drove. Fast. Down the street, tires skidding across asphalt whenever she took a turn. She had to find Drake, quick. That was the mission Optimus had given her and her sisters. So, they had split up, each taking a different route through town.

Her holographic form rode on her alt mode, a helmet concealing its face. Her human hands nervously gripped the handlebars as she took another turn, slowing down a bit. The street she was on was empty. Not Synapsis empty, but empty. Only a few humans shuffled along on the sidewalks, casting few glances at the sleek bike driving down the road. She ignored them and zoomed on. Zoomed past a high school, passed a bustling restaurant. She kept on driving and eventually came to another corner, where she turned and went passed a hotel, and then past a place was so much better than Synapsis. It was still dull, but not as dull.

She wanted to taunt Drake. To sweetly coo his name so he would come out of hiding. Arcee hadn't been his guardian very long, but she knew that he wasn't the type to back away from a challenge. It just wasn't like him. He was the determined type, the outgoing type. You gave him a challenge, he would complete it no matter what the cost were.

Arcee admired that about him. He was just like so many Cybertronian warriors out there...and she didn't want him to be lured in by the wrong crowd, like so many others had. She knew, though, why Drake had left. He had often spaced out at times, rambling on about his worst fears, and for some reason, what he saw in a woman. Arcee, of course, had been silent, more focused on other task more than some teenage boys fantasies. But when he had mentioned Zora and Optimus, Arcee had perked up a little.

He had said that they were in some type of relationship. Not a brother-sister, father-daughter relationship. More like sparkmates. Arcee was having trouble herself believing it, but she had heard the rumors. Word traveled fast around the base, and it didn't help that they were harboring two of the planets most notorious gossip machines, Mudflap and Skidz.

She braked at the corner, leaning to the side. She could either zoom around randomly, or she could go methodically, street by street.

Methodical was not Arcee's thing. Never had been.

She zipped around the corner, and saw no one on the street. It was prefect for Drake to hide. No humans around to get in the way or witness the fight. Of course, Drake probably didn't care how may humans died or saw. She remembered him strolling through the base, flinging humans and Autobots around like they were rag dolls. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had both been in the line of fire, and both ended up in the med bay, nursing their wounds.

Then, it dawned on her: His power. What was she going to do about his power? It was what made him such a deadly opponent. If he had been a regular human, she would have been able to capture him easily. But he was far from regular. And who knew, maybe he had a few other tricks...up his sleeve, as the humans said.

She didn't want to kill him. Knock him out, at least. Optimus hadn't been very clear when he had told her to capture Drake. What did she do? Shoot him? He was still human, after all, and still resided under the Autobot coda.

She shook her human head and zoomed towards a church.

Voices. She heard voices within the building.

Making sure no humans were around, she transformed, hoping up the stairs. She ducked her helm as she zoomed into the church….

_BLAM!_

The explosion, the stab of yellow light, blinded her. Her processors shrieked a warning. Her single tire screeched to a halt, fast, but not fast enough. She slammed into a pew and flew headfirst into the air, optics offline, processors a jumbled mess.

A human would have smashed face-first into the marble altar. But Arcee was not a human. As she was flying, she tucked and spun, her tire landing on the altar. Wobbling, using her hands for balance. Her tire barely fit on the altar, but it was enough.

Drake laughed. A hollow laugh with no emotion.

Arcee raised her helm and stared into Drake's eyes. They were a horrible Decepticon red. Like Megatron. Like the Pit itself.

Her entire frame shuddered.

"All this time, Arcee, and you're still at the top of your game," Drake crowed, wiggling a finger. He was trying to taunt her. Bait her into letting her guard down.

"I don't want to hurt you, Drake," she hissed.

"You won't have to. I'll make this quick." With a sweep of his hands, Drake sent one of the pews sailing thought the air towards the Cybertronian, who was poised for an attack. She threw herself off the altar and skidded across a pew.

"Drake, think about _Zora_," Arcee pleaded. "You're betraying _her_."

"Like she betrayed me?" He snarled. "She's with an...alien. She could have come to me if she wanted a good fuck so badly - "

"That's not true." Arcee interrupted.

"You wouldn't know," Drake hissed, raising his hands, palms out. "But you _can't_ kill me. _Nobody_ can. Not Zora, and certainly not Optimus."

He was right. Arcee couldn't kill him, not because she wasn't able too, but because she didn't want too.

"_Arcee to Optimus," _she said, using her internal communications. _"Requesting backup."_

No reply. Arcee's spark lurched, and she feared the worse. She would just have to face Drake alone until one of her sisters got here. She just had to be smart. He was just like any other Decepticon. Cocky and full of pride.

An invisible fist pummeled her in the chassis. She went flying, cartwheeling through the air, smashing into a knocked over pew, flipping over it, coming to rest against the green carpet.

Avoiding his attacks was useless. If she didn't make some type of move soon, she would be offlined. But if she attacked, she risked killing Drake and breaking the Autobot law. Never harm a human.

Breaking the law was whole lot worse than having her spark extinguished. She would hurt Drake, but try not to kill him.

She lunged, rolling out into the isle. Drake stood in the back, and his smug expression suddenly turned to surprise.

"Fighting back, are we? This should be fun."

A pew to her left was suddenly airborne. She almost missed it as it sailed towards her.

Almost missed.

Not quite.

Arcee dropped as the pew went over her head and smashed into the corner. Her tires slid against the carpet as if coated in butter. She fired a wild shot from her blaster, hoping it hit Drake in the side or in the leg or in the arm.

It caught him in the face. It turned his smirk into a gaping hole.

Arcee screamed.

Drake was still standing, one eye still focused, still blinking. There was no blood. There was supposed to be blood. No arteries that sprayed across the ground like Arcee was expecting. Just flesh that looked like an uncooked hamburger.

It was revolting. Absolutely revolting.

Drake raised a hand and waved, unable to make an expression since half his face was gone. He made a grunting sound that might have been a laugh if he would have had teeth and lips and a mouth. Arcee grimaced. At least he couldn't talk with half of his face smeared around the back of his head.

Drake reached up and stuck a finger through the gaping hole. One eyebrow raised as he brought it out, seeing that it was pink. He tilted his head to the side and focused on a horrified Arcee.

His face began to reform, something Arcee had seen in mutated Cybertronians, in other space creatures, but _never_ in humans. She could see the individual teeth, light white pearls, moving, crawling out of shredded flesh to form new teeth. Soon, his smirk had returned, full and confident.

He was right when he said he could not be killed. Whatever was possessing his body had given him a serious defensive weapon.

Arcee stood, mesmerized. But that cost her a precious second.

The fist hit her again and this time she hit the wall, hard. Armor left long scratches in the pain. Warning signs flashed across her vision, yet she was able to jump up and zoom back across the isle, jumping as Drake sent another pew flying at her face. She knocked it aside with her metal forearm, wood splintering and tickling her armor. The blow caused her to stumble, but she regain her footing. She hurled herself at Drake, whose smug expression had suddenly disappeared.

She grabbed a fistful of shirt and threw him. Sent him hurtling down the isle and slamming into the marble altar. She heard his head hit the marble, heard his bones crack.

She saw the bone sticking out of his neck. Saw how he simply snapped his neck back into place like it was nothing. He smiled.

Insane.

Impossible.

She steeled herself and shot another glance at Drake, who was on his feet, hands raised.

She was quicker. She revved her engine and threw herself back down the isle, sliding across the carpet, burying her small sword into his chest. It stuck through his back and pierced the marble altar.

With a simple gesture, she let the sword come loose from her servo. Now, Drake was pinned, thrashing around, cursing, but not bleeding. His red eyes focused on Arcee, and his mouth opened. No sound came out because his lungs had been punctured. He could only wave his hands.

His hands. They were the weapon. Arcee realized a second too late.

The pew smashed into her head from behind, sending her processors into a frenzy. Warning signs blared across her vision, and she barely had time to recover when something sharp slammed into her chassis, just near her spark.

She fell back, hot, fresh energon spilling onto the carpet. Out of the corner of her optic, she saw Drake grip her sword and pull it out of his chest, slowly, relishing each inch of tough metal. Arcee heard him gasp, and his voice was faint. Distant. She was fading.

She couldn't offline now. She had promised Zora that she would bring Drake home…..

Promised her...

She lay, helpless, as Drake's wound stitched itself up. She was unable to move, unable to think clearly.

Drake approached her.

He walked right past her. She was expecting the final blow, some snarky words from him at least. But he didn't. He just walked past her like she wasn't even there.

It was a few moments before Ratchet's holoform rushed in, since he was unable to fit through the church door. He knelt beside her, worry and compassion in her blue human eyes and her delirium liked him for that.

"What happened?"

"D-Drake…." She rasped, unable to form her words. "H-He…have to g-get O-Optimus….c-can't b-beat…."

"Yeah. Unfortunately, Optimus is busy," Ratchet murmured, examining the wound near her spark that. It was gushing energon. Her optics offlined, so she could only hear Ratchets voice. But she imagined that his face was grim.

"Zora…," Arcee whispered. But before she could complete the thought, the floor seemed to open wide and drag her down into stasis.


	34. Bite

"Man, this whole thing is really messed up," Epps told Zora, cradling his gun. "First the plague, now this?"

"I hear you," Zora murmured, rummaging through a few books and magazines on the coffee table. She hadn't been surprised when Optimus had allowed her to go, under the condition that she lay low and use her powers only when necessary. Zora didn't really understand that part, though, because the only other humans in the vacated house at the moment were Lennox and Epps, and they had already been given a briefing about her….strange development. They knew, and they were wary, much to Zora's disarray.

"I thought that Drake kid said he'd leave Simmons here for us," Lennox said, crossing his arms. "I don't see _anyone_."

"He could be anywhere in this place," Epps replied. He and Zora both looked around, at the high ceiling, the balcony that gave a clear view of the living room and the counter that separated it from the kitchen. A hallway led way to several other room to the right.

"Drake's the type to keep his word, no matter what the situation he's in," Zora said, huffing. "That I know for sure. Just keep searching. He probably has him tied up under a bed or something…."

"Yeah, but don't you think it's kind of strange that he'd just _leave_ Simmons here?" Lennox said, raising his eyebrows. Zora noticed that he had a firm grip on his gun. "I was half-expecting an ambush."

"Hey, Lennox, you might want to come check this out…." Epps said from downstairs. Zora and Lennox both looked at each other, shrugged, and slowly walked down the creaking steps into the basement, where Epps stood, his expression horrified.

"Wh-whoa…," Lennox choked, grasping his gun even tighter.

Zora saw an arm sticking out from under the couch, an arm that was definitely not moving.

Lennox, Epps, and Zora looked up and peered at the ceiling through the human sized hole.

If the fall had not killed the man, then the couch had. It had flattened him out like road kill.

"Help me move the couch?" Zora said, already gripping the arm of the piece of furniture. There was no doubt that it was Drake's handiwork, and for a moment, it hit her that he really might be a Decepticon human. She shook the thought away, thinking off all the times they had played together.

The time Zora had fallen off her bike and he had helped her back up. The time she had been bullied at school, and Drake had come and made a good impression on the tenth graders who thought it would be funny to lock her in a classroom all night. Those kind of memories showed that he just _could not_ be a Decepticon.

Yet, she was losing him. She was losing him by gaining Optimus, someone she just couldn't let go.

"You really want to see what's under there? No. We'll get the authorities to look at it." Epps put a hand on Zora's shoulder and squeezed. The girl nodded and stepped away, feeling small drops of water form around the corners of her eyes.

_No. _

She _would not cry_.

A moan. Coming from the third floor.

Epps, Lennox, and Zora all raced up the stairs, careful to avoid the hole. They thundered up steps, all on a hair trigger, ready for a fight or an ambush or something.

Thy turned into a long hallway. Two room on the left, one room and a bathroom on the left.

"Check the rooms," Lennox said, but before any of them could move, the moan sounded again. Close. So close.

Zora stepped back, and grimaced when something red stained the bottom of her shoe.

Blood. It was blood.

Simmons sat at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall, which was splattered with gore.

"They killed him," Zora said simply, her hands sweaty. "They lied. They killed him."

Epps rubbed his temple. Lennox just stared, unsure of what to do.

Simmons blinked. All three humans almost missed it, but he blinked and twitched a finger. The bullet had hit him in the head.

"He's alive!" Zora rushed over, despite Lennox's protest, and sank to her knees beside him. Her hands hit the floor and came up red. In the background, she could hear Epps calling, calling for Ratchet or for a human doctor or for someone. Zora didn't care. All she cared about was he note stuck to wall beside Simmons. It, too, was stained with blood, but still legible.

_We said we wouldn't kill him if you came. So there you have it. Alive and….well. _

_-Drake_

A hiss sounded from the end of the hallway. The lights above flickered, and then died.

Silence.

Lennox looked up. Epps' hands were shaking so hard that he could barely hold him gun, and the entire time, Zora kneeled at Simmon's side, her hands over the bloody hole in his head.

"We have to get out of here," Epps said, when the hisses, the scuttling of feet and the tap-tap-tap sound of clicking mandibles got louder and louder and louder, so loud that Zora could practically see them in her mind, smell their curry tinged breath against her cheeks.

"Which way?" Zora said. Then, again, "Which way?"

The noise was coming from the basement and Zora wondered if they had gotten through a downstairs door or what. If so, then there would be nothing left of that alien dealer, the Hank guy. He was digested. And Zora, Lennox, Epps and Simmons would be jointing him soon if they didn't act.

"Stay with him," Zora said to Lennox, who knelt beside Simmons. In his hand was a cloth, and he pressed it against the wound, speaking to the older man quickly.

Simmons' head lolled back and forth, his one good eye open and focusing solely on Zora. His mouth moved, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words.

"Fuck," Lennox cursed and pressed the cloth down harder, blood gushing through his fingertips. "You better not die, you hear me? You stay with me…."

Down the stairs Zora went, leaving Epps and Lennox behind.

"Whoa, kid, where the hell are you going?" Epps shouted, but Zora ignored him. She was bounding down the stairs.

"I'll hold them off best I can! Go!"

Her shoes squeaked against hardwood, and she looked down the hole in the living room.

They were earing Hank. The couch had been lifted off, the bugs surrounding the man from all sided, mandibles digging into soft flesh.

The smell wafted up into the living room, the smell of blood and whatever odors the animals produced.

It pierced past all Zora's defenses and she kneeled over and gagged.

A bug, the biggest one, from the looks of it, snapped its hideous head up. Ruby eyes met Zora's deep brown ones, and in a second, there was nothing Zora could think about.

She was stricken with fear. It felt as if someone had shot ice water into her veins. She was immobile.

Caught.

Zora ran as the bug leaped through the hole, flaring its wings. Her powers were forgotten for a split second as she powered down the hallway, taking a sharp turn, slamming her shoulder into the door of what she assumed was a bedroom.

She wriggled the knob. The door did not budge.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She screamed, bashing her fist against the wood.

She turned just as a long, barbed tongue wrapped around her throat.

It was just her against one bug, just like last time. But this was large and just coming back from a meager meal. It was eyeing Zora with hunger, and something akin to lust, as if it couldn't wait to sink its teeth into her flesh…..

Its hold around her throat tightened. Zora's hand shot up to grip the black rope coiled once, twice, around her, cutting off her air.

She fired blindly. The blast, the explosion of green light from her hands was supposed to be used for emergency's, due to the fact that it caused her pain afterwards _and _she barely knew how to aim…..

It missed and blew a hole through the wall. Downstairs, a chorus of hisses and shrieks rose from the feasting abominations.

But still, none rose to attack.

With a powerful jerk of its head, the bug flung Zora to the side. Her skull bashed painfully against the door, and she felt her knees buckle instinctively.

She opened her mouth to call for Lennox and Epps, but the bug was wringing her out like a washcloth. Her throat constricted and she felt herself slipping away, her brain shutting down, the lack of air making her woozy…..

The explosion of gunfire was deafening. Epps was firing from the balcony above, his aim almost perfect.

The bugs grip did not loosen. Zora fell, her head lolling to the side, and that was when the bug attacked.

It's mandibles were inches from her face when she was able to catch it, grab it by the two spiraling horns jutting from its head. The thing screeched and writhed in her grip, the sheer amount of strength it had astonishing.

It reared forward and Zora's head slammed into the wall, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth. She spat in the bugs eyes and it screamed, a high-pitched whine that reminded her of an angry boar or a pig before its slaughtered.

Her hands burned. She felt it, felt the power the Primes had so graciously given her erupt from her hands.

The bug screamed in pain as Zora's hands sank through its flesh, the fire burning through its innards – or whatever qualified for its innards – and burned.

It's head whipped to the side and Zora had to move her own head as its mandibles, wicked, curved appendages, dug into the plaster wall next to her head.

"Kid!" Lennox shouted. "What the hell are you trying to–"

"I'm a little busy, Will!"

Zora, with whatever might she had left, threw the bug into the air. It's wings shot out and before it could descend one more for an assault, Zora burned it. Her light skewered it in half like it was just some hunk of raw meat. Bug goo dripped from her fingers, and she watched the thing fall to the ground, through the hole and down into the basement, atop its comrades.

A wail rose from the horde of creatures. Lennox grabbed her and cocked his gun, Epps sliding down the banister, Simmons slung over his shoulder. A long cloth was tied around his head, but still, the man was dripping blood from his mouth and head and ears….

"Move!" Lennox bellowed. He fired into the hole, down at the bugs, but they were flaring massive wings and launching themselves into the air. "Move! Go, go, go!"

"Go where?"

"Outside!"

Lennox slung his gun over his shoulder and followed Zora down the hall, Epps behind. She raised her hands, palms out, and aimed for the front door. The blast knocked it off its hinges and sent it falling into the front lawn.

They fell, Epps keeping a firm hold of Simmons, as the bugs emptied into the open air behind them.

Zora looked up, just as the screams of the on looking civilians pierced her ears, one massive chorus of agony

* * *

><p>Grab. Thrust. Fire.<p>

That was the whole routine Optimus had to follow. He remembered well from the last time they had fought the bugs.

Cutting worked too. But sometimes you didn't have enough time for that.

A tongue lashed out at his face, and Optimus grabbed it, making a daring move. He slid under the bug, kicking away parked cars. Metal against asphalt was not a good combination, and in second, sparks were flying.

The bugs were responding now, a mass of them, rushing towards him. All eager. He was quick, but not quick enough, and he had to sidestep one. And then another.

He struck it, burying his glowing sword into its back. He yanked it up, but the bug came with it. It was stuck.

It was still alive. Or something like alive.

With his blade still stuck in the bugs back, he lashed out at another one, slamming his foot into its face, sending it spiraling back into a parked car. The car's alarms went off, blaring and adding to the noise.

His sword came free! He skipped back, amazingly light on his feet, and then struck. Again! Again! In the blink of an eye!

He had just enough time to look and see Megatron, all arrogant and smug, trotting down the street, taking his sweet time. He stopped, watching, almost leaning forward on his pedes in anticipation. He was a bystander in this fight.

For once, Optimus could only glare. His glare turned to horror as something wet slapped against his waist. Megatron stood there as the bugs tongue latched itself onto his armor and pulled him back, towards is gnashing mandibles.

"Hold him! He's mine!" Megatron cried.

One slice of his sword, and he was out of there. But another bug latched onto his arm, wrapping around his metal fingers, yanking on his arm so hard that he bellowed in pain. Red bug eyes fixed on him with what looked like triumph.

He was trapped, and Megatron began to thud towards him, talons ready.

His left arm was free. He formed his blaster and took aim. The shot was wild, but it hit home.

Megatron's leg exploded out from underneath him. The tyrant fell, screaming in Cybertronian, cursing at Optimus.

He blasted one bug away, putting away his weapon so he could tear at the bug holding his other arm. He yanked and pulled, snarling. It came free, and Optimus only had a split second to launch himself away. He cartwheeled over one and blasted it from behind.

_Speeewwwwt!_

"Ugh! Disgusting!"

Another one had his leg this time. Its barbed tongue stuck to his armor, and began to pull him back with surprising strength. He shook his leg, feebly attempting to get it off. The bug just stuck, refusing to let go.

He hit the bug with his fist, two times each second. He sliced one tongue, but soon it was replaced by three more, and he was pinned. Pinned by at least a dozen bugs, more surging towards him, mandibles slicing the air.

Megatron was dragging himself away, still cursing.

Suddenly, one surged forwards, ready to deliver the final blow. Optimus' hand shot out, and he pulled against the tongues with all his strength. The move stretched out one of the tongues taut. Missing Optimus' arm, the bug sliced through the tongues as if they were made of paper. It snapped, the sound like crack of a whip or the crack of a pistol shot.

He was still pinned, but he had one arm free. He grabbed a bug and swung it hard so its protruding teeth sliced through another tongue that snapped back like a cut high-tension cable. But he was still pinioned, helpless.

Was it possible that he could lose this fight?

He struggled and kicked. _Boom boom boom. _Three punches and three of the bugs spun away, dazed, but not dead.

Free! The realization struck him, and he threw himself forward. Even as he flew, he could see them lashing out, coming towards him like striking cobras, mandibles questing.

Something rammed into his side, hard, sending him tumbling, all thoughts of a finesse getaway abandoned.

A bug sunk its teeth into his waist, biting through his armor, piercing through wires. Fresh energon spilled onto the asphalt, burning through it. The pain was short, yet shocking, and he roared as warning signs flashed through his processors.

The bugs retreated, and he wasted no time in running. Running as fast as he could down the street, hand sliding into the wound, causing more energon to spill onto the ground. But that was the least of his worries. He could feel it between his fingertips, twisting, sliding, like some slimy tapeworm.

"Prime!"

Ironhide gripped his side, digits squeezing the wound. He looked at it, and then looked up. Optimus didn't need to use words to explain what happened.

"Get it out!"

"How? I'm not a medic!"

Optimus snarled and reached down, feeling the bug, the small bug, squirming under webs of wires and energon tubes. He squeezed and pulled, digits effortlessly slipping through the armor.

"Shoot it!"

"W-What, have you lost your mind!"

Optimus, snarling, gripped Ironhide's shoulder. He towered over the mech, but Ironhide didn't seemed to be intimidated. He looked more scared, which wasn't Ironhide. Ironhide never showed fear. Just determination.

"Listen to me, Ironhide…." Optimus tried to keep his voice level, but he couldn't hold it. His voice rose and cracked. "Don't let it happen to me. Swear to Primus that you'll…..take care of me if it happens."

"Prime…"

"Swear to me, Ironhide."

Ironhide gently pried his finger loose.

"I swear."


	35. Aftermath

"I killed Arcee, alright. So get off my back…." Drake snarled, sipping his drink and putting it back on the table. Of all the houses he had invaded, this one was the nicest. Flat screen television, nice, comfy couches. A nice kitchen too, with a refrigerator stuffed full of expensive foods from china and Greece and stuff. Drake was still human, or, something akin to human. He still had his needs. Needs that Megatron didn't understand.

The Decepticon lord was out in the backyard, crouched down low, peering through the window. His whole frame was concealed by palm trees, not that Drake cared if anyone saw.

"You dare speak to me that way, you pathetic insect!" Megatron growled. Drake just snorted and grabbed the TV remote, flipping through random channels.

Something flapped though the window. It sounded like a bird. Drake dropped the remote on the couch and turned, grabbing his drink and taking a sip. He saw Laserbeak shuffling across the kitchen table. He shot Drake a look, a look of discomfort. One that he rarely saw on the sadistic, blood-loving Decepticon. It showed just how much Megatron's own soldiers feared him.

They feared _him. _The pale, black haired nineteen year old human.

Drake laughed. Laughed out loud. Laserbeak hissed and flapped back through the open window.

_Prepare my troops._

"Yeah, whatever," Drake said, scoffing and sipping his drink. It suddenly tasted bitter, and he cringed and set it down.

_Do as I command._

Drake sighed and rolled his eyes. He walked over to the window and pulled it open, staring out at Megatron, who sat on his aft, running his talons over a nearby tree. Each time, he was stripping it of its bark. Drake didn't want to know who he was imagining the tree was.

"Yo, Megs!" Drake barked. Megatron turned his head, shifting so he sat on his knees. Each time a joint creaked, Drake grimaced. He didn't know why Megatron insisted on staying with him….it made no sense. He had a nice comfortable throne back at the base. Drake suspected it was because he did not want to leave his master, but still….

"What is it, fleshling!" he snapped, optics narrowing. Drake smoothed back his black hair and sighed.

"Your master keeps telling me that he wants you to assemble your army. Meaning the bugs."

That was right. The bugs were The Fallen's idea. His creation. They served only him, and Megatron.

But now, they served Drake.

"What did he tell you?" Megatron said, reaching a talon through the open window to gently touch Drake's forehead. Drake could see it in his optics. They were like brothers, the two of them. Brothers of The Fallen. Megatron, especially, was eager. Like a dog waiting for a command from its master.

Drake could think of only one thing. He didn't know if it was his own brain that had formulated the plan, or if it was his master, placing his plan into Drake's mind. But one thing was for sure. Drake loved the plan.

"_Killing_. There must be _killing_," Drake grinned. "So_, Megatron_, tell me. Are you down with murder?"

* * *

><p>Mikaela opened her eyes.<p>

Something was on her chest, something heavy. A head. She groaned and pushed it away, yelping when it made a sound.

"I'm awake," Sam mumbled, sitting up, wiping drool from the corners of his mouth. He watched as Mikaela ran her fingers though her tangled hair. She looked around. They were at the beach, at the isolated lagoon where Zora and Optimus liked to disappear to often. The son peeked over the horizon. A sunset.

"What are we doing here?"

"You were with Ratchet. You passed out when you saw….well, you saw someone get sick and…." Sam rubbed the back of his head, not wanting to explain any further.

"You brought me here?"

"Bumblebee did." Sam jerked a thumb to the bright yellow Camaro parked close to the trees. Bee revved his engine and honked his horn, causing Sam to smile. Mikaela gave a little wave, and then tasted the inside of her mouth.

"Do you have any water?" She asked. Sam shook his head and pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. Mikaela leaned her head against his shoulder.

"You talked in your sleep," Sam said suddenly. Mikaela lifted her head and raised her eyebrows. "Y-Yeah. You were making noises. Like, loud noises."

"Really? Thanks for pointing that out," Mikaela said, huffing and crossing her arms.

"Yeah….well…..I mean…" Sam stuttered, face flushed. He shivered. Now that she thought about it, it was kind of cold out. She picked up the blanket, shook off all the sand, and wrapped it around Sam's shoulders. She stood, brushing sand off her shirt, and noticed how filthy she was. Blood was splattered across her shirt and pants and it was dried on her arms. It even felt like it was in her hair. She grimaced.

"God…how many are dead?"

"Five so far. Ratchets spiraling down into depression."

Mikaela let out a breath and closed her eyes. Everything was beginning to feel so useless now…so hopeless. Drake leaving was a huge blow to Zora, who seemed to be drifting farther and farther away. It had scarred her, especially after what Drake had did to Arcee.

"Sam…." Mikaela said, staring up into the sky, "did you ever think that were fighting for nothing?"

Sam tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Mikaela shifted and crossed her legs, "you saw how bummed Optimus was when he got back. He looked dead inside. Like someone stuck in a vacuum and sucked out all his spirit. I've never seen him like that."

"Well, of course he's bummed. Arcee was pretty much killed."

"And this plague….Ratchet isn't even _close_ to finding a cure. Even Wheeljack is helping, and he's a scientist. Not a medic."

"You're saying…."

"How many more people do you think will be victims of the plague? An Autobot? One of our human friends? _You or me_?" Mikaela glanced back at Bumblebee, the image of the scout, alone and helpless, being eaten alive from the inside fresh in her mind.

She shuddered. "Sam….what if after everything we've been through….we lose."

"We aren't gonna lose."

"You don't know that! If Ratchet doesn't pick it up, the plague will overrun the Earth and we'll all be dead. If Optimus doesn't stop feeling sorry for himself and pick up the slack, then we lose."

"Its not easy being a leader, Mikaela. Sometimes I wonder if Optimus even wants to lead."

Mikaela sighed. She couldn't put all the pressure on Optimus or Ratchet. They were doing the best they could, but….she had seen he look in his optics after he had returned to the base. They looked even more distraught that usual. And it was and odd thing too, really, since he had Zora to support him, even though she was just as distressed as him.

"Don't worry about Optimus," Sam said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss, pulling her close.

"Yeah. I'm sure he'll be _fine_."

Sam gave her something similar to a smile.

* * *

><p>Simmons was more or less in a coma. Arcee was in stasis and didn't plan on coming out any time soon. Ratchet was working so hard that Optimus wouldn't be surprised if his processors crashed. They had identified the man known as Hank to be an alien dealer. Selling salvaged alien parts that he had collected from Egypt for a high price.<p>

He too, was dead.

Galloway, Maggie, Hank, Quinn, Sledge. Simmons would be joining them soon, along with Arcee. And then there was Dex, the Decepticon who had offlined knowing he had been used as a test dummy.

And possibly Optimus. The damage to his side had been fixed up by Ratchet, quickly, and the medic had told him that there was nothing wrong. That what he had felt under his armor had been the bug, and that he had crushed before it had done any serious damage. Optimus knew he should trust the medic, but for some reason, that little voice in the back of his processor was screaming that something was wrong.

Of course there was something wrong. Life was wrong. They had so many obstacles now….the bugs. The Decepticons. Drake, who was perfectly capable of acting on his own free will, thus was not included under the caption of Decepticon. He could make his own moves. He could plan his own attacks and his own strategies so long as he did it away from Megatron.

Megatron used cold logic. Nothing could stop him from trying to achieve his goals.

Drake was smart and cunning. Even more so that Starscream. That gave him the advantage. That, and he seemed to be Megatron's favorite.

Optimus cycled his vents. _Why_ had he sent Arcee after Drake? Why hadn't he gone after Drake himself? It made more sense. Now, Arcee had put herself in stasis to avoid death. The death that he had condemned her to because he had been afraid. Afraid of what he would do to Drake, and afraid of what Drake would do to him.

Fear. Something he was used to feeling. But it had never been this great….so great that it had clouded his judgment and made him make stupid mistakes. Careless mistakes that had nearly cost one of his soldiers her life.

Was it that he feared being offline?

Certainly not. He had never been afraid of death. Death was something he would face one day, whether it be on the battlefield, or somewhere else.

He sighed. He couldn't think about death now. There was a planet to save, a species to save. He had to just keep on living until it was all over, and then, he could accept death like an old friend.

He could accept it when the world no longer needed a hero.

That's what Ratchet had told him, one day, after the battle of Egypt.

"Prime," he had said, "there comes a time when the world no longer need a hero. And a true hero knows when to walk away."

Ironhide had added, "hey, lay off, Ratchet. He's stressed."

He had just snorted in response and told him that stress had never been one of his strongpoints. In fact, he hated it. He knew it was just a part of being a leader, but he could never shut down that feeling of guilt, when, during a meeting, all eyes would be focused on him. Whether they be human or Cybertronian, Optimus always saw that look.

_Can you tell us, Mr. Prime, why our soldiers found Hank dead in his basement?_

_Can you tell us, Mr. Prime, why a woman in Seattle was spotted hacking up her insides?_

_Can you tell us, Mr. Prime, why there is a psychopathic teenage boy with mutant powers running around, declaring himself king of the Decepticons?_

The jury was always harsh. The decisions were always his to make, whether they be good or bad. And after the smoke would clear, they would all be looking to him, looking for some kind of way to criticize his actions.

It would always be _Optimus Prime, what have you done?_

What have you _not _done?

He hadn't defeated the bugs. He hadn't captured Drake.

"Hey."

The voice caused him to jump. He looked down and saw Zora, his beautiful Zora, staring up at him. He hopped off his recharge berth and knelt down to touch her face.

"Are you okay?" She asked cautiously, as he slid a finger down her back. The gesture was comforting to the human girl, and she purred.

"Stable."

"Is your side still hurting?" She asked. Her big, brown eyes were swimming with worry and pain and sadness, and even in the darkness he could see a lone tear rolling down her face. "It looks like it hurt."

"Ratchet fixed it."

He wanted to tell her that the physical damage was only the beginning, that there was something else down there. His spark felt as if it had been drained. He sat down on his berth and rested his head in his hands, Zora coming to stroke his foot lovingly. She kissed the cold metal armor and said, "It's not good to hold it all in like that."

"It's my duty," Optimus replied. "A commander who loses his grip on his own emotions...they would never look up to me if I...If I..."

His shoulder shook, and the gesture sent a wave of pain down the left side of his frame. Zora seemed to feel that one motion as she rested her head against his leg, and she traced the flame patterns with her finger before saying, "I'd look up to you. Always."

Optimus smiled.

"Shall I take you for a walk?"

"Lagoon?" Zora inquired, cocking an eyebrow. Something was hidden in that devilish grin of hers. "Unless you have a meeting…"

"My meetings are done for the day. As well as all my paperwork."

"Then you have time…." Zora said, lacing her finger together and blushing. Primus, he loved her so much. More than anything else.

"I _always_ have time for you."


	36. Acceptance

They landed in front of the cave, sending up a cloud of billowing dust that got in Drake's eyes and mouth. Megatron didn't seem to care, though. He just let Drake slide of his hand and onto the floor. He brushed himself off and surveyed the cave in front of him, large enough to fit even Megatron. Rocks had piled up in the opening, but they looked almost….man made. As if someone had put them there on purpose.

Drake could feel them. Feel _him. _There was something down there.

Megatron was smiling. It wasn't a good look for him.

"What is this? I can feel something down there…." He said, frowning and walking up to the huge pile of rocks. Carefully, he shoved one to the side, not even bothering to use his powers.

"Our master….well, _part _of our master lies just past these rocks…" Megatron purred, flicking away one small rock with his finger. "We must dig to get to him…."

"Right….the bugs." Drake flinched when Megatron knelt down next to him, talon extending to brush against his cheek. It was a kind gesture, full of innocence. However, Drake could see past all the metal, all the words…he saw the monster underneath. It awed him.

"Start digging, human," Megatron barked, stepping back. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an optic ridge as Drake walked up to one rock and used his hands to shove it to the side, watching it tumble onto the grass. He rolled his eyes and stepped back, raising his hands, palms out, grinning as the boulders floated past his head.

In less than a minute, only a few rocks remained. Megatron was still standing behind Drake, smirking. His smirk turned into a frown when scuttling noises could be heard from inside the cave, tiny, sounds, like repeatedly clicking their teeth together.

Drake stopped with his hands raised, palms out. Even Megatron knelt down to investigate.

"What is that?"

"My _precious_ pets."

They looked like something from a science fiction movie. Like an alien or a robot or something, because they were way too big, way to sinister to be just bugs.

One was silver and bronze, dully reflective. It had an insects head with bulbous, gnashing mouthparts that made Drake think of a chef flashing their knives. Wicked curved mandibles protruded from all sides of its mouth.

It smelled like curry and ammonia. Bitter, with a tingle of sweetness.

More poured out of the cave, now, scurrying up beside the first. They had red eyes that could almost pass as human. But they had nothing of human awareness, nothing of human vulnerability or emotion. Drake could have sworn he saw the Decepticon insignia somewhere on each of their sides.

They all ran on four legs or more, centipedes, spiders, wasp, moths, cockroaches. Their wings flared slightly as they scuttled out of the cave.

Drake was ready, with his hands out, and Megatron having drawn his blaster. However, Drake didn't like their chances if they were looking for a fight. A gunshot to the face was one thing, but had The Fallen equipped him with the ability to survive being ground up like food in a garbage disposal? Chewed, digested, and disposed?

"This is my master's army," Megatron purred, kneeling. Drake's eyes widened a the way one of the bugs, the largest one, skittered over to Megatron and let itself be pet. The tyrants talons stroked up and down the bugs back, in between its folded wings.

"They can only be controlled by you, or me. _Faithful_ disciples to The Fallen."

Drake felt his throat constrict and his breathing become labored. He was still human, after all, and he could still feel fear. Just looking at these bugs filled him with fear.

And something akin to love. It showed the true power of their master.

"We still have a lot of ground to cover before we find what you're looking for," Drake said, jerking his chin past the bugs. The back of the cave had caved in, tons of rock blocking the passageway.

_"This_ is what I have been looking for," Megatron said, not taking his optics off the bug in front of him. "The remainder of the army."

"And I can tell that their hungry," Drake pointed out, backing away. He felt Megatron's talons wrap around his face and lift him up. "So…want to go find some town and let em' feed?"

"Later," Megatron spat. "We must have a _plan_ if we are to defeat the Autobots. They are smarter than we give them credit for. Especially with _Prime _in the lead."

"Enough with the planning. God, when are we going to get to _kill_ some people?" Drake sighed, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Soon, my brother, very, very soon."

Drake laughed. A cold laugh that caused even the mighty Megatron to flinch. He looked into the mouth of the cave, feeling his master, his one, true, master, calling to him. Filling his heart and soul.

And he would not be thwarted.

* * *

><p>Ironhide was seething. He seethed a fair amount, at the best of times, but today was different. He was still upset over the last bug fight, the monstrosities the Decepticon's had created were starting to get on his nerves. And the fact that Optimus was practically falling apart right before his eyes. The pressure, the battles…and especially the loss of one of their good soldiers was finally getting to his processors. Ironhide knew that he was being to hard on himself, that he had a tendency to blame everything on himself. That didn't help him as a leader at all.<p>

He wasn't really supposed to be out driving along in Synapsis. Supposedly, a quarantine was in effect for some nearby towns. All everyone was concerned about was the plague going global. It had yet to leave Florida, or Synapsis, but it was only a matter of time.

But Ironhide wasn't afraid of some flying bugs that peed green goo or whatever that was about.

He sped up, tires kicking up dirt behind him. The streets were empty except for a few humans, some dressed in baggy clothing, shuffling along the sidewalk, looking like they were in their own little world.

He turned a corner, passing the same house that Zora had evidently been attacked in. He turned onto that road, seeing that it was empty of life, and tried to find the hole in the wall.

Someone had nailed long strips of metal over the hole. It looked way to neat for a human to have done it.

"What's that about?" he wondered aloud. He sighed and was getting ready to speed away when he heard a sound like chewing. Like a lot of chewing getting rapidly louder, and coming from within the building.

The metal groaned. Something slivery was pushing its way out through the cracks, moving with respectable speed.

Ironhide didn't even look around before he transformed. A human spotting him was the least of his problems. He was more focused on the metallic looking insect, each the size of a small pony. He had enough time to observe the clicking mandibles and to be utterly creeped out by its humanoid eyes.

Ironhide had seen the bugs more than enough times, and he knew that they shouldn't scare him. He had faced creatures from all over the solar system far more intimidating than the bugs. But he couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear at the things that had hatched out of Maggie Madson's gut.

The first bug launched itself at Ironhide. He sidestepped it easily.

"Hmp. Your quick, I'll give you that," he said, snarling and blasting it with his cannons. Another was on him in seconds, and he batted it away, skipping back and blasting it, feeling sticky bug guts ooze down his armor.

"_Disgusting_," he spat.

He would have kept fighting, it Ratchet hadn't arrived, along with Lennox, who had hopped out of Ratchet and was running toward him, gun unsheathed, yelling at the top of his lungs.

He kicked away one just as Ratchet transformed and Lennox fired.

_BLAM! BLAM!_

He fired at one of the bugs that was running away from Ironhide. The bullets hit and embedded themselves deep into its side, but it still kept running.

"Head shots!" Ironhide rumbled. "You have to hit them in the head!"

He pointed to the ones he had blasted earlier, but to his dismay, they were still moving. With a frown, he thundered up to one, knelt down, stuck his cannons right in its face, and fired. Once. Twice. Until there was a smoking crater in the sidewalk.

"Crush them!" Ratchet cried, standing back, looking unsure of what to do. When a bug approached him, he snarled and stepped on it.

Ironhide didn't want to get bug guts all over his armor, but he knew it was the only way. He stepped on one, and then another. Its friends seemed to get the message, and began to scurry away as fast as their sick legs would carry them.

"They are getting away! Don't let them!" Ratchet exclaimed.

Lennox looked like he was about to faint, and Ironhide could have sworn his next move would be to throw up his hands and yell, "forget it, I'm outta here!"

He just shook his head and let his gun drop to the side, watching the last of the bugs disappear around the corner.

"We should go after them," he finally said.

"Too risky," Ironhide told him, transforming back down into his alt mode. Ratchet followed lead. "If we run into a bigger swarm of those things….."

Lennox just rubbed his temples, and for the first time, Ironhide heard him mutter, "why did I sign up for this?"

* * *

><p>Sam wasn't surprised when he found Zora down at the lagoon, alone, lying out on a blanket. He <em>was<em> surprised that Optimus wasn't with her. The two had become inseparable. Everyone on the base had noticed, and Sam had even heard soldiers talking about it behind her back. Something he should have put a stop, but hadn't found the courage.

He felt he should apologize, too, for what he had said about Drake. That still didn't mean that he wasn't a psycho, but Sam knew he shouldn't have said it to her face. She was a newbie, still, trying to get used to everything. The betrayal of her best friend was like a mental slap in the face. Not to mention that the Prime's had given her the power to shoot lasers out of her hands.

Bumblebee opened the door for him, and Sam motioned for him to stay.

"I sort of need to talk to her alone for a second….that alright?"

Bumblebee revved his engine and chirped in response. Sam patted his hood and walked over to where Zora was lying on her back, adjusting her pair of sunglasses.

"S'sup," she said, before Sam could even say a word. She raised her eyebrows when he sat down beside her. It was kind of odd, being with another girl his age. He spent most of his time with Mikaela. It was the first time he and Zora had really gotten to chat one-on-one.

"You aren't with Optimus," Sam said, crossing his legs and lacing his fingers together.

"Meeting. Paperwork. He's a busy bot'," Zora said, shrugging. Sam saw the disappointed look on her face. She sat up. "Hey, where's Mikaela?"

"Helping Ratchet."

"Ah. Fun," Zora murmured. "So, Sammy, what brings you here?"

Sam cleared his throat. "I just wanted to say…I'm sorry for what I said about Drake. You're already going through a hard time. I was being a jerk."

"Yeah…you were."

"Hey!"

"Kidding!" Zora playfully slapped his arm. "It's alright. After what he did to Arcee…I'm not sure he cares about me anymore."

"I'm sure he does," Sam said, trying to reassure her. The way his voice cracked when he spoke wasn't helping his cause at all. Frankly, he thought Zora was right. Drake was out of control. And any human with enough power to take out a big Cybertronian would be a main Decepticon target.

"It just hurts. I mean, think about it. If he stays the way he is….eventually, he's gonna get himself killed," Zora clenched her fist. "God, why _me_? This _stupid_ war has practically _ruined _my life!"

Sam didn't say a word. He just gave her a pitying look and laced his fingers together.

"I don't want to be a part of this anymore. I just want to be a normal kid, with normal problems."

"I did too. But I had to accept it," Sam said firmly, wincing at the glare Zora gave him. "A-And I know this must be hard for you, Zora, but think about it. You would not have met Optimus. You wouldn't have met me, or Mikaela, Or Bumblebee. Your friends."

"I would still have Drake."

"Who knows, maybe you wouldn't," Sam said, flinching when the words came out harsher than he had intended. He softened his gaze and gave an irritated sigh. "This whole war is bigger than me, or you, or anyone else, for that matter."

Zora sighed and stretched out her legs, staring out at the ocean. The silence that followed was unnerving at the least.

"I guess you're right," Zora said, blowing a few strands of hair out of her face. "I guess…..eh…never mind."

"C'mon," Sam said, nudging her with his elbow, "that's not the only thing that's bothering you."

"Nothing else it bothering me."

"I know that look. It's your _thinking _look," Sam tapped the side of his head. "C'mon. You can tell me."

"No offense, Sam, but you're not Dr. Phil. You wouldn't get it. And quite frankly, I'm not sure Dr. Phil would get it, either."


	37. Home

Zora stared at her bed. Her own bed, the bed she hadn't slept on in almost two months. Even her room looked the same, which was a surprise because she would have thought that her parents would have packed up her things and sold them. Not one scrap of clothing had been taken from her closet.

Her parents weren't home. They were out visiting their relatives, probably trying to live a normal life and forget that alien robots existed. It was like having her own house, finally. Living with her parents had been a serious downside. She couldn't wait to pack up her stuff and move out, which would have been soon, if she hadn't gotten involved in an alien civil war.

"I can't believe you agreed to let me spend some time at home," Zora said, walking over to her window. Optimus stood just outside, concealed by the thick palm trees. Zora reached out and touched the side of his face, feeling the smooth metal. She had gotten used to it. In fact, she loved it.

"I will be right outside, if you are in need of my assistance," he rumbled. Zora grinned a devilish grin.

"Nah…you can come inside. In fact,_ do_ come inside. I might need some company," Zora grinned again, making sure Optimus got the idea. The Autobot's optics widened, and he stepped away from the window.

Zora smirked. He would come back, that was for sure.

* * *

><p>A shower felt nice. Very nice. The warm water eased the dull ache in her muscles. It was hard to believe that only a few months ago she had been going through the same routine every day, totally blind to what was really going on in the world around her.<p>

Where would she be if she had never met the Autobots? If she had never met Sam or Mikaela or Bumblebee?

If she hadn't had her body invaded by a Prime?

_Nemesis._

Zora practically dropped the towel as she stepped out of the shower. The voice. It was back. She had almost forgotten about it. Almost forgotten….

She let out a breath and pulled the towel around her. No doubt Optimus was in her room, waiting for her.

_Nemesis_

The voice was back. Louder, this time, whispering in her head, its voice like millions drumbeats pounding and pounding and pounding. So loud that, with a cry, she dropped to the floor with her hands clamped over her ears.

Get out of my head, she silently urged, but she knew that it would do her no good. The sheer amount, the sheer dominance of the ancient species was inexorable. Unstoppable.

But through the dull echoes of an ancient language she would never understand came a voice. A deep, lust filled cackle that reminded her of a demon. Or even the devil himself. It suddenly overcame her defenses, pushing the voices of the Prime's away, biting at the very edge of her skull like a termite trying to escape.

It was Drake.

_I want you._

Zora cried out again, eyes squeezed so tight, tears streaking down her cheeks. Her hands quested all around her for something, something to beat her head with just to get the voices to stop….just to get them to go away and never return…..

Or a knife. She would slice apart her skull, if she had to.

_I want you, Zora, and you will be mine._

Optimus was suddenly in the room, shouting, his words turning into leaden thuds against the background, unable to penetrate her horror-stricken haze. She heard a scream, and a part of her mind wondered if it had been her.

She bit her tongue so hard that she tasted salty, coppery blood.

_Mine._

"…..Look at me, Zora."

She returned to reality, consciousness returning in an explosion of light. She gasped, the taste of blood, the sensation of wet tears streaking down her face nothing compared to the sight of Optimus, sheer dread having washed over his features, holding her head in his hands.

She had never seen such a terrible expression on a holoform. Especially _his_. But it portrayed what he was feeling well enough, and Zora found herself holding back more tears.

"Look at me and be _calm_…." He breathed, his lips barely grazing hers. "Dear Primus…."

Zora's throat went dry, even through there was enough moisture in the air. The back of her throat felt like sandpaper and robbed her of the ability to speak, to form any recognizable words.

So, instead of speaking, she gave a slight whimper.

Optimus held her gaze, his own blue eyes filled with worry and remorse and sadness and….a little bit of pity. Zora closed her eyes, steadied her breathing.

The voices had faded. Disappeared as quickly as they had come, and Zora felt herself pressed against Optimus, her curves fitting perfectly against his body.

He kissed her forehead, then her nose, and then, when she was ready, her lips.

"Primus…you don't know how horrifying that was."

She gulped and didn't respond.

"I'm going to let go of you now," Optimus said slowly. "Do you need to lie down?"

Zora didn't hesitate to nod.

She stumbled away from Prime, onto her bed, slipping on her bathrobe and letting her towel fall onto the floor beside her bed. She didn't care that Optimus had seen the entire transition, the way she carelessly tied the robe together speaking volumes about how little she cared. She fell back onto her bed, hair wet, the water and sweat mixing together.

Optimus came and sat beside her, resting a hand against her bare leg. His touch was warm and inviting, and she smiled.

She closed her eyes.

A few minutes later, she felt the bed dip. She said softly, "Optimus?"

"I'm right here. Sleep."

"I can't."

"If the voices return….I will be right here," his thumb brushed against her lips. "Besides, I like watching you sleep."

"Stalker."

Optimus gave a deep, baritone chuckle. Zora opened her eyes and saw him lying on his back next to her, staring up at the ceiling fan, his eyes following it as it tilted back and forth.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that," she said. "I'm sorry I'm _like_ that."

"There are some things that we cannot change. I will be of little assistance in this department," Optimus tilted his head and looked at her. "And for _that_, I am sorry."

"This would have never happened if I had been smarter. Drake left because of me, and he'll probably die cursing my name."

Optimus didn't reply at first. Then, "He loved you. I can't stress that enough."

Zora's lips trembled. She could barely hold it in, the guilt. She wanted to tell him so badly….

"Did you love him?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "But I love you more."

Optimus smiled. "I know."

Zora leaned into his kiss as if it were her first time, lips moving against his own. Her head was still throbbing, the voices a distant whisper.

She ignored the feeling. Right now, there were only them in the world. No Drake, no Decepticon's….

His hands touched her bare thigh and drew her down, her head falling against the pillow, Zora's lips refusing to part from his.

It was like someone had shot fire into her veins. His fingers dug into her flesh and drew her legs up to wrap around his waist, the action so effortless, as if he had been practicing. His lips trailed down her neck, one hand coming up to shove the robe away.

The other hand ran along the soft flesh of her stomach, finding ever dip and curve. His hand felt her breasts, her throat, _everywhere._

His lips were on her throat, massaging the smooth, supple skin. His other hand, it was as if it were under some sort of spell, struggling to remove his shirt and the rest of his attire, seemingly distracted by the way Zora ran her fingers through his dark hair and showered his lips with kisses. His hips moved and she hissed.

"Primus..." he growled. Zora's fingers deftly began to tug at his pants, sliding them past his knees. Peppering kisses against his stomach, Zora slipped her robe from her shoulders. No use for it now - Optimus was reveling at her body, his hands twitching as they felt her soft, naked flesh.

"Let me," Zora murmured, on her hands and knee's, ducking her head and pressing tender kisses against Prime's stomach and up towards his chest.

Once again, his hands found her uncovered breasts. Zora'S limbs felt like molasses - but Optimus was moving even farther, towards her back...

Zora yelled. It was a cry - she rolled from atop Optimus, grasping her bathrobe.

"We shouldn't…." she said breathlessly, leaning over and kissing him quickly. "We need to wait…."

Even as he found her lips again, tongue brushing against her own, his self-control was still in play. He pulled away, looking as equally disappointed as Zora felt.

"I w

"I know that you won't," Zora said. "But that's not what I'm worried about."

What _was _she worried about? Drake? His face, coming to her mind, even as they made love? Many, many men had come and gone through her life, all the same. Wanting something and giving nothing in return.

She knew that Optimus wasn't like that, and she loved him more than anything else in the world. He was strong and regal and honest and brave and _loving_….

She just couldn't sin again. Her list of transgressions went on and on, and sleeping with Optimus wouldn't help. She would feel guilty, afterwards. Like she had betrayed….her friend.

Drake was not her friend anymore, she reminded herself. He had chosen his own path, and she had done the same.

"I love you," she whispered against his mouth, placing a lingering kiss against his lips. "But I just…can't."

Optimus gulped and nodded, lying back on the bed.

Zora rested her head against his chest, and soon, sleep got the better of her.

* * *

><p>"Hold still! You have to quit moving for me too do…oh, God, Optimus. <em>Why<em> are you being so difficult?"

Optimus kept revving his engine and backing up, making in near impossible for Zora to scrub him with the sponge. The hose was off, draped over her shoulder. A sponge was in one hand. And, of course, she was wearing a tank top and shorts. Optimus had actually picked it out for her.

Hm, she thought, I wonder why.

Stepping forward, she began to use the sponge to clean him off. She was surprised he hadn't told her to leave certain parts alone; she had heard Ratchet explaining some of the more complex Cybertronian anomaly to Sam and Mikaela, and knew that there were some _very_

Maybe he liked it?

She gripped the hose and sprayed him, just for fun, giggling when he revved his engine and backed up, just a little.

"Cold?" she inquired, tilting her head and laughing when his voice came out a tad shaky.

"Yes. A little," he paused. "But it is _quite_ refreshing."

"Duh. We're in Florida. Its, like and hundred and something degrees down here…" she said, exasperated. Reached up and patted his hood. "No wonder it feels so good."

Optimus chuckled. "I guess so."

"And after this…..we can go and have some quality time together."

"I…thought this counted as quality time?"

Zora laughed as she hosed him off. "I guess."

"_Zora Parker_? Are you _talking _to a _truck_?"

Zora yelped and scrambled away from Optimus, tossing the hose to the side.

It was Astrid, her smart-aleck, popular neighbor. The one who had led her posse of girls to harass her during high school. And here she was, standing in Zora's driveway, hands on her hips, blond hair pulled in a ponytail. Her green eyes narrowed as she eyes Optimus with uncertainty.

"Um…..no."

"Well?"

"Well, _what_?" Zora spat, eyeing the hose. However, for some reason, she could imagine Optimus staring at her with that disapproving look of his.

"Is it yours?"

"No, he's not mine."

"_He?"_

"I mean…._it_. _It_ belongs to my dad."

"Your dad got a _job_?"

"…..yes."

Astrid snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. She then shoved a lock of blond hair out of her eyes and walked up Optimus, analyzing the red and blue design. She turned to Zora.

"It's ugly," Astrid sneered. "No wonder your dad picked it out. Its just like him."

"Shut up, Astrid, and stop spewing your crap to me. Go harass someone else."

"Nah. Your just so _easy _to pick on."

Zora's eyebrows rose, and for the second time, she eyed the hose. It was just out of arms reach. She could grab it if she wanted to….

Optimus revved his engine. Astrid leaped back.

"Yeah. This truck has some problems…" Zora said slowly, shooing Astrid back. "You might not want to get to close to it."

Astrid scoffed and walked back down the driveway, turning her head to look back.

"Freak!" She called back.

"Nice talking to you, too!" Zora replied, giving Astrid the middle-finger salute, watching as she rolled her eyes and disappeared down the street. She couldn't believe Astrid had the nerve to even talk to her. She hadn't even asked where she had been the past seven weeks. Not that Astrid would really care, but Zora knew that she was Astrid's main target when it came to harassment. She had even been in league with Quinn and Sledge when they had tried to mug Drake.

Even though she had been sitting back at the base, she had gotten caught. But her nice father had bailed her out of jail.

Zora remembered what Mikaela had told her about her own history. It was somewhat similar to Zora's, without all the mugging and violence.

"You handled that quite well," Optimus finally said. "Very convincing."

Zora had to pause for a moment as she finished washing Optimus, mostly to figure out if it was an actual compliment, or sarcasm.

She went with compliment and started hosing Optimus off.


	38. Friend

**Sorry for the freakishly short chapter. But I hope you enjoy it! Send me ya feedback!**

**I don't own it. It would be awesome if I did, though.**

* * *

><p>Zora was glad that it was Sam and Mikaela who came to visit her the next day. Not that spending some alone time with Optimus was a bad thing, no. She would have given anything to be able to kiss him again, feel his lips against her throat…..<p>

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts from yesterday out of her mind. So what if they had almost crossed the line. She had seen the hesitant look in his eyes. It wasn't like they would be trying it again any time soon.

And that thought pained her.

"Lucky," Mikaela snorted, glancing around the room. "You have your house, like, three miles away from the base. I have to take a plane and all to get back home. Nice room, by the way."

"Hm. Not very special," Zora sighed and flopped down onto her bed. "Where's Sam?"

At the mention of his name, Mikaela rolled her eyes, coming to sit down beside Zora.

"Outside, talking to Optimus. _Thankfully_."

"Boy troubles?"

"He's been a real pain in the ass lately," Mikaela said, examining her nails. Then, her eyes lit up. "Hey, maybe you can go knock some sense into him. Think about it. He'll respond to a girl who's practically a walking laser."

Zora snorted as Mikaela raised her hands, palms out, a pantomime of whenever Zora used her powers.

"Hm. Maybe later," Zora shrugged, frowning. "Sorry. I don't have any advice for you. It's been, like, years since I've had a boyfriend."

"You prefer being alone?"

"Not anymore." Zora shot a glance out her window, where Optimus was sitting, cross legged, with Sam in the palm of his hand, deep in a conversation with the human boy. The way the light glinted off his armor made it seem like he….radiated with power and strength.

"Earth to Zora," Mikaela crowed, snapping her fingers. "You were _staring_."

"_Oh_…I was?"

"At _Optimus,_" Mikaela raised her eyebrows and looked out the window. "You think that I don't notice? Every time you're around him you look like you want to jump him or something…."

"_Hey_!"

"It's true!" Mikaela bit her lip and ran her fingers across the soft sheets of the bed. "I mean, I don't blame you. Even his robot form is attractive, and not to mention his ungodly beautiful holoform."

"Better not let Sam hear you say that."

"Like _Sam_ would care," Mikaela huffed and crossed her arms, noticing the dark look Zora shot her. "Don't ask."

"I wasn't going to. But I can tell by your look that he's _really_ pissed you off."

"Big time."

Zora didn't get a chance to respond. She could hear the voices outside, especially Optimus'. A certain word had caught her attention, and she frowned, standing up to go gently crack open the window, letting the voices filter into the room. She peeked through the blinds and saw Sam, out of Optimus' hand, staring up at the Autobot leader with a frown on his face. She listened intently as Mikaela slid up beside her.

"….and I mean, I know she's great and all, but she's a human. Isn't that a little…..I dunno….weird?"

"_Love_ is _love_, Sam," Optimus replied, without a hint of bitterness in his tone. He shifted a little, and Zora saw him brush his fingers against his once damaged side. It had become a habit of his. And irritating habit.

"I know. It's just that….on Earth, love is bound by so many different…_conditions_. Hasn't anyone spoken up and said anything? A human, I mean."

"You are the first," Optimus tilted his head to the side and stared down at Sam, who was fidgeting with his fingers nervously. "_Although_, not many have noticed anything peculiar between Zora and myself."

"Oh…well…." Sam scratched the back of his head. "I mean, I don't mean to be rude or anything….but what do you _see _in her?"

"I see someone who relates to me. Someone who has endured loss. Pain. _Betrayal_," he practically spat the last word. "Someone who understands."

Zora closed her eyes. She knew who he was referring to when he said betrayal, and no matter how much she wanted to believe that he would snap back into reality and come home, she knew that Optimus was right. Drake was a traitor.

"Yeah…." Sam said softly. "I still don't see why…"

"Sam, that is enough." Optimus' tone wasn't harsh or commanding. Just tired and weary. He glanced towards Zora's window, and for a moment, she thought that he might have seen her. He tore his gaze back down to Sam.

Zora looked over, and saw that Mikaela had stepped back and was sitting on the bed, arms crossed, and a sour expression having come over her features. Zora did not want to know what she was thinking. She knew that it probably wasn't too nice.

"Mikaela…"

"He doesn't know what he's talking about."

Zora shuddered and looked back out the window. Sam was walking back towards the front door, shaking his head.

"I don't want to hear anymore. You can listen if you want to, but leave me out of it," Mikaela whispered.

Zora slowly shut the window.

* * *

><p>"S'sup, Bee-bot," Zora said as she opened the door to the garage, seeing Bumblebee sitting up against the closed door. She flicked on the light, grimacing at it shined into her eyes. Bumblebee warbled happily, scooting off the door and coming to sit on his knees in front of her. For what seemed like the millionth time, Zora was thankful that her parents were gone. The garage was empty, so it gave Bumblebee plenty of space to move around.<p>

_"Good mooorniiing sunshiiiineeee!" _He sang.

"Oh, well aren't you a sweet little bot'," Zora cooed. It was different, really, waking up to someone other than Optimus. Not that she was complaining. If anyone was to complain, it was to be Sam, who had slept downstairs on the couch, insisting that Mikaela take the guest room.

Such a gentlemen.

"You know where Prime is?"

Bee just chirped in response and revved his engine.

"Out for a drive?" Zora inquired. She hadn't known the bot' as long as Sam and Mikaela had, but she was already beginning to understand his strange way of speaking. "When will he be back?"

Bumblebee shrugged and leaned back to sit on his rear. Zora smiled and walked up to him, reaching up to pat his cheek.

"You are, like, so friggin adorable."

She pulled back her hand when she felt the metal on his cheeks warm up. He was _blushing. _Not like a human would, but he was blushing, all right. She watched as he scooted back, hands coming up to hide his face.

"Does _someone _have a crush on Zora?"

Zora hadn't even noticed Mikaela open the garage door. She came up beside Zora and winked. Bumblebee issued an even more embarrassed chirp, shaking his helm vigorously. A little too vigorously to be convincing. Zora laughed as Mikaela pulled her too the side.

"Where's Optimus?"

"That's what I asked Bee. He went out for a drive."

"Did you see him yesterday….outside. He won't leave his side alone."

Zora bit her lip. She grabbed Mikaela's arm and pulled her back inside, shutting the door behind them. She didn't want anyone to hear. Especially Bumblebee, of all bot's.

"Mikaela…."

"He got bitten, didn't he," Mikaela's voice cracked, and she had to take a deep breath before responding. "I could tell."

Her mood was different now. Zora could tell. She was shocked at how quickly it had changed. Now, her eyes were dull, her mouth turned down at the edges. She stood close to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"If I…," she paused and cringed. "If _we _lose him, you know what happens."

"Don't jump to conclusions, Zora."

"I'm not. But if it is what he thinks it is….I…won't be able to…" Zora shook her head. "I saw something yesterday. I saw him jump. Like something had bitten him."

"You think it was…"

"Maybe I just noticed because I was looking for it. Maybe it was one of them."

Mikaela sighed and shook her head. Zora could see the gears spinning in her mind. She was trying to think of something to say. Something that would comfort the girl in front of her who was falling apart.

If he did catch the plague, then nothing would comfort her. It wasn't like the last time he had died. They wouldn't be able to just stab the Matrix of Leadership into his spark like they had before. This time, he would be eaten. Torn apart from the inside out. No wires, metal, nothing to resurrect. This time, he would be _done_ for, and there would be nothing that Zora could do about it.

"It's probably nothing," Mikaela said. "We're probably worrying about nothing. And I'm not the best person to discuss this with. Go talk to Optimus about it."

Zora closed her eyes and nodded.

"Oh, and Zora…."

"Hm?"

"You're my friend, you know that. So anything else you need," Mikaela laced her fingers together and glanced at the floor. "I've got your back."

Zora smiled.

"Thanks. I've got your back, too."


	39. Fall

**I'm baaackkk! Sorry for the late update. As always, send me ya feedback. Tell me if you love it, hate it, or want to flush it down your toilet.**

**I don't own it. Never have, never will.**

* * *

><p>Zora awoke in the middle of the night, screaming.<p>

She was having a dream. Nightmares didn't come to her, often, but now that she had been thrust into the world of giant aliens and man eating bugs, her nightmares could be fueled by images of the dead and dying, and, of course, the traitors.

The bugs, foaming at the mouth. Megatron tearing his talons into her leg. Maggie Madson's horrific end. All those she had seen time and time again.

This one was no different. She was in a world of blood and violence and pain, those giants, writhing black tongues and mandibles always able to find her, no matter where she hid.

They would always eat her slowly. Drag her into their mouths, teeth crunching through bone and flesh, tearing through her stomach to get to the innards, the organs and the muscles, the bone crunching like candy against their teeth.

And throughout the whole thing, Zora would be alive, screaming, writhing around as they ate her arms and her legs and her hands, tearing away her eyes and then her mouth so she could scream no more.

And when there was no sight, there would be pain. Flashes of red against a vision that could only exist in a dream.

Always, in that moment, would she awaken and draw out a long, throaty scream of agony and terror.

Optimus materialized in her bed, suddenly, the gesture so normal to Zora that she barely flinched. No, she broke down into spasm's, hands clawing at her own bare flesh, making sure everything was intact.

Body parts still there: Check. Eyes? She could see Optimus in front of her, so she counted that as a yes.

The pills. The pain pills. She always kept them next to her bed, and absently, her fingers reached for the orange capsule that held her release.

Strong hands clamped around her wrist, and she went rigid.

"Zora…"

"I'm so sorry," she gasped, pulling back her red hair. "I'm so sorry…."

"It's alright…." He murmured, hushing her and kissing her hair. "I'm here…I'm…."

Zora's cold fingers touched his bare chest, tracing the muscle, her lips resting against his tan skin.

"You're cold," he said suddenly.

"But you're warm. So I guess I'm alright," she breathed. "Just….don't leave me. Just stay here…."

He ushered her under the covers, an arm draped across her waist, keeping her close. One thumb brushed across her lip, and he kissed her lips, quickly, the gesture like a feather grazing skin. Light.

Zora's head hit the pillow, and she closed her eyes, feeling nothing but Optimus' soft breath against her neck. The intimacy, the feel of her bare skin against his, her ankle brushing against his calf, her fingers tracing light patterns against a muscular chest….it was maddening.

She kissed the center of his chest, and he gave a deep, rumbling sigh of pleasure. His fingers tightened in Zora's hair, and she wondered just how….

"How…." She breathed.

"How what?"

"How is this happening? _Why_ is this happening?" Zora squeezed out, clenching her eyes shut, fisting her hands into the bed sheets. Her hands ached, as if they were covered in blisters. "All this pain….I can't take it…"

"Zora," Optimus murmured slowly against her skin, his hand creeping under her nightgown. Zora felt it, felt his fingers getting closer and closer….

She let him touch her in the back, let him touch that jagged scar. She felt him stiffen, and Zora had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming…..

"Your pain is my pain, love," Optimus whispered. "And if I can let it not take over, so can you. So _sleep_," he breathed in her ear. "I will be with you when you awaken in the morning."

She knew she wouldn't be able to unless she heard those words.

"Say it."

Optimus was silent.

"Please. I need to hear it from you. I need to hear the words from you so I can know that you're here…." Zora's lip grazed his throat, and she felt his fist clench into the back of her nightgown.

"I love you."

And that, Zora knew, was a fact.

* * *

><p>Arcee was awake. That part was clear as Mikaela entered the med bay. Ratchet had her sitting on a berth, arm stretched out to allow Ratchet to scan it. She was swaying back and forth, optics dimmed, as if she were in her own little world.<p>

Ratchet released Arcee's arm and looked down at Mikaela, whose hands were on her hips. She smirked at the Autobot femme, who had tilted her head to look down at the human.

"Sleeping beauty finally woke up," Mikaela winked as Ratchet reached down to pick her up. "_Joking_. Good to have you back, Arcee."

Arcee grinned. "Good to be back."

Ratchet let Mikaela sit on the Cybertronian sized table, feet dangle off the edge. Beside her, Ratchet scrolled furiously through a data pad, occasionally murmuring things to himself, totally oblivious to Mikaela, who was staring up at him.

"You need to rest."

"Resting won't help find this cure."

Mikaela tapped her chin and thought for a moment. She glanced at Arcee, who just shrugged and twisted her arm, testing its liability.

"What if there _isn't_ a cure?"

Ratchet set the data pad down and spun to face her. The look in his eyes was enough to make Mikaela shut her mouth, period. She slid back and muttered an apology, watching as Ratchet shook his head and resumed working. Arcee hopped off the berth, hissing and stumbling as her tire refused to work correctly.

"Take it easy," Ratchet murmured, reaching out to grasp her arm.

"I'm _fine_," Arcee replied bitterly, brushing away his hand. "You said that I would be able to….ugh. Never mind. I'm going to go find Zora."

"_Absent_," Mikaela piped, crossing her arms. She saw Arcee's puzzled look and nodded. "They should be back in a few minutes."

"You haven't fully recovered, Arcee," Ratchet warned. "You're lucky I'm even allowing you to leave the medical bay. Don't push it."

"I won't," Arcee mumbled, testing her tire, rolling it gently back and forth. She glanced up at Mikaela and held out a hand. "Would you like to go with me, Mikaela?"

"Sure." Mikaela slid off the table, falling for a few moments before gently being caught around the waist by strong, metallic hands. Arcee's wasn't nearly as big as the other bot's, and her hands weren't fit for carrying humans.

Mikaela walked beside her, down the hallway, giving a quick wave to Robert Epps before craning her neck to look up at Arcee.

"How long was I in stasis?" she suddenly asked.

"A few weeks. Not long. Nothing much happened…." Mikaela rubbed her eyes and had to quicken her pace to keep up with the Cybertronian femme.

"Slag. Is Drake still online?"

"Alive, and kicking," Mikaela confirmed glumly. "Zora still isn't too thrilled about everything."

"She has every right to be upset," Arcee said. "Nothing hurts worse than betrayal…."

"….Especially by your best friend," Mikaela finished, sighing heavily. "You know, I don't think Zora will be able to take this any longer. She and Optimus both."

"What about Optimus?"

"Well, he's…hm…how do I put it…." Mikaela frowned. "He's falling apart."

"We all are."

"I know. But he's, like, practically our only hope."

Arcee opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a frantic cry.

"Arcee? You're awake?"

Sam. Mikaela shrunk back behind Arcee, trying…er….attempting to hide. It wasn't working very well because Sam had torn his eyes away from Arcee and had let them rest on Mikaela.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said, wrapping his arms around Mikaela's waist, kissing her forehead. He looked up at Arcee and smiled. "Boy, will Zora be glad to see you."

Arcee cocked and optic ridge, but did not say a word.

"Speaking of Zora, guess who got back a few minutes ago?"

"Lemme guess…." Mikaela said sarcastically, trying her best not to sneer. "Zora and Optimus?"

"We have a winner," Sam muttered. He grabbed Mikaela hand, gesturing for Arcee to follow. They headed towards the main hangar, Mikaela trying not to look at Sam. Arcee rolled a good ways away behind them, as if sensing the signs that the two needed to be alone. Mikaela looked back and shot Arcee a look. The Cybertronian shrugged.

"What is your problem, Mikaela?" Sam hissed. "You've been avoiding me all day."

Mikaela pulled away. "My _problem_?"

Sam visibly shrank away. "Y-yeah, I mean, are you mad at me?"

"Can we talk about it later?" Mikaela shook her head and strode ahead of him, growling when he caught up to her and grabbed her arm.

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"I don't….." Sam's eyes widened and he rubbed the back of his head. "Did you hear me talking to Optimus yesterday…I mean – look, Mikaela, try looking at it from my point of view," Sam ushered Mikaela away from Arcee and lowered his voice. "Think about it. It's…oh, God, its like she's licking batteries…It's just not normal."

"That still doesn't give you the right to - "

A scream so loud that it caused the very walls to shake.

Then, a thud. Like something big falling down. Or someone.

Sam stumbled back, blinked, and looked towards the main hangar. In that second, everything was forgotten as the two humans raced into the hangar. They skidded to a halt at the scene before them.

Optimus. On his side. Not moving.

Zora, beside him, was urging him to get up. Her hands were on his cheek and it seemed as if she were trying to push him up.

Another scream, and this time, Mikaela, along with everyone else in the room, was surprised to find that it came from Optimus. It was a high pitched, guttural whine. Like an animal being slaughtered.

Optimus' head snapped up. His fingers reached down to brush against his damaged side, and for that split second, Mikaela knew what was happening, even though she had told herself day and night that it would not come true.

Zora froze.

For a second, Mikaela forgot to breathe.

Optimus' head fell back down.

He did not move after that.


	40. Suffer

**Hm. Can you believe that we are getting close to the end? Yep. All I can say is, you will be surprised.  
><strong>

**I don't own it.**

* * *

><p>Optimus had been out for three days, eight hours, twenty-three minutes, and five seconds. Arcee was keeping count because she knew that after a certain amount of time, the screaming would start. She wanted to stick by her leader, like Zora was, but she wasn't sure she would be able to take it.<p>

Zora had refused to leave Optimus' side. When Ratchet wanted to examine him, he would have to pick her up and walk her out of the room, despite her angry protest. He would dump her outside and slam shut the door to the med bay. Zora would lean against the wall and wait for him to finish.

Nobody spoke to her. It seemed that she didn't want to speak to anyone, either. And Arcee didn't know what to do because she knew that if they lost Optimus, they would lose Zora, too.

Already, she had become a shell. A shell that was decaying as days went by and Optimus inched closer and closer to offlining.

"Where is she?"

"Where is who?" Epps said, stopping and spinning around. The human eyes Arcee for a moment, stepped closer. "Oh, Zora? She's….um, down by the lagoon. Look, I tried to talk to her."

"How did _that _work out?"

"Didn't go very well. She told me that if I didn't go away, she would turn me into a pile of ashes," Epps recoiled back, as if remembering the incident. "I didn't question her after that."

Arcee nodded, thanking the soldier before turning her wheel and zooming down the hallway. She scanned the hallway for Sam and Mikaela, but saw that they were nowhere to be found. She wanted Mikaela, especially. The human femme was closer to Zora than any human on the base.

She shook her head and headed for the lagoon. She had never actually been there herself, but she knew that it was where Optimus spent much of his free time. He was a mech who appreciated the company of others, but at times, needed to be alone. The lagoon was the perfect place, with its white sand and sparkly blue water.

She found Zora there, sitting down, looking as if she had been to the Pit and back. Arcee approached, cautious at first, but settling down when Zora turned her head and motioned for her to come.

"What are you doing here," Zora asked. There were dark circles under her eyes. She had not gotten enough sleep.

"Coming to check on you," Arcee watched as the human stood. She didn't even come up to her chassis, but Arcee still did not dwarf her in size like the other Autobots.

"Why? I'm doing just _fine_," Zora spat sarcastically. Arcee flinched and reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

Zora flinched and jerked her shoulder away, storming out towards the ocean, picking up a rock and throwing it as hard as she could.

"You know, I told him that he was fine. That nothing was going to happen to him. That he shouldn't see Ratchet because the doc bot had a lot of other shit to take care off."

Arcee did not speak.

"I should have let him go. I should have…." Zora shook her head and picked up another rock, throwing it as hard as she could. She didn't look at Arcee when she said, "you know what I'm talking about, right? You're a soldier."

The words where spoken with such sadness, such pain that it caused Arcee's very spark to lurch. She had never found herself feeling so close to a human before. As if she felt the pain they felt.

She reached out just as Zora threw herself at her, wrapping her soft arms around her slim waist. Her cheek pressed against her armor, and Arcee ran her metal finger through her hair, cooing words of comfort.

Zora cried. Hard.

* * *

><p>Drake was on his third house since abandoning the Autobots. This one was an old, run down one that looked like it belonged in Synapsis instead of the dense swamp. It had belonged to some old human man, the kind that walked around with shotguns and talked about hunting alligators or whatever.<p>

Not that Starscream cared. The stupid human male, the one that had been occupying the house in the first place, was dead. Starscream had made sure of that. Made sure that precious Drake had enough room, as if he needed it. Like he needed anything other than a roof over her head. Pit, he could sleep in the trees, if he wanted to.

Starscream hated Drake Talent. A boiling hatred that made his spark lurch and his talons clench in anticipation, images coursing through his processors of wrapping his talons around the boy's waist and squeezing. Turn him into a human basketball. Watch him try to fight like that.

Drake had pushed Starscream out and made himself Megatron's favorite. Like Starscream cared. It gave him an advantage; after all, he could avoid Megatron's usual watchful optic a lot easier.

But it still made him mad.

"Ssup, flyin' turkey," Drake came out the back door, so pale that he looked like a ghost. His red eyes stood out like a flashlight in the dark, glowing bright. Starscream couldn't hold back his shudder.

He wasn't scared, he wasn't scared. Only _fools _were scared of _humans_. Filthy little balls of flesh and pus and…and…

"I know that you're _itching _for a chance to kill me, Starscream," Drake said causally. "Just give it up. You can't win."

"I always win, fleshling," Starscream said out of the corner of his mouth. Primus, the little boy was always trying to start something.

Always trying to taunt him, bait him into betraying Megatron.

His time would come soon. But not now. Not until Megatron got rid of Optimus and Drake got rid of Zora Parker. Then Starscream would make his move.

It was only a matter of time before it begun…

"I'll kill you, Drake."

"Yeah. Save it for after the battle, Starscream," Drake began to walk. But not back towards the house, towards Barricade, who was sitting amongst the tree's, practically hidden.

"Going to talk to Barricade, are we?" Starscream sneered.

"Nah. I have a few errands to run. I'll be back, though. Tell Megatron's there's no need to _worry._"

Starscream was about to point out that no, Megatron wouldn't worry. That, to Megatron, Drake was no more than a toy. But hesitated. No need to make the foolish boy angrier and crazier than he already was. He turned and watched Drake saunter over to Barricade. Whatever errand he was running...maybe he would get killed during the process.

Hm. A con can only hope.

* * *

><p>Optimus did not know where he was or who he was.<p>

The pain blossomed in his abdomen, dull at first, more veiled. But it was still there, a raging, powerful force that tore at his stomach. Like a lion mauling its kill, teeth tearing and tearing…

Animalistic. The raw emotions streaking through his processors were like those of a madman, full of killing and torture.

And then, his delirious mind began to form visions.

A hallucination. A dream.

He was chained to a berth, chained by his ankles and wrist, the hard metal biting through his armor. Everything was dark except for two glowing orbs hovering above him, red, like the eyes of the devil.

Someone in the background was screaming, but Megatron seemed indifferent to the pleas. On claw reached out to stroke Optimus' helm, tracing circles along the seams of his audio receptors.

_I've been here. I remember…_

"How does it feel to betray your own species, Prime?"

He wasn't a traitor, even if Megatron deemed him as one.

No. Never.

"Pathetic, just like the rest of this planet."

The claw was still on him, stroking his cheek now, the gesture seeming oddly sweet and sickening at the same time.

He was dreaming. It had to be a dream because there was no was in the Pit that red blood had been pouring out of Megatron's mouth, dribbling down his chin as his lip plates curled upward in a horrendous smile.

Optimus never remembered Megatron curling his talons around his throat and squeezing, crushing his vocal cords until all he could utter was a choked whine, squeezing and squeezing until he regained his mobility and thrashed around, kicking, crying.

"Optimus! Stop!"

He had to get free….Megatron was going to…someone had to help him.

"_Stop_!"

Optimus ceased his writhing and fell back, Megatron's imagine disappearing, the choking hold on his throat disappearing all in one second. And then everything was clear, the painfully bright light above his head and Ratchet's words clearer than ever.

But the pain was still there. The sounds of chewing and gnashing barely audible to all but Optimus.

Oh, Primus, no. No, no, no, no. Let me offline. Let me offline before I can see what they're doing to me.

His optics seemed to buzz around in his head as he tried to focus. Focus on what? All he knew, all he could process was the sound of mouthpart gnashing and distant scream that he knew belonged to him.

Death. He had to die. Someone had to kill him.

"_Ironhide_!" he gasped, surprised that his mouth still worked right. _"Ironhide! Do it now! Primus, please, do it now_!"

No reply. Just a clang and a curse.

"It hurts!" he wailed. "It hurts so much!_ Ironhide_, I'm begging you!"

He couldn't speak in sentences after that. Just whines and shouts and yelps and screeches and curses at everything.

His optics flickered back on. He shifted his head – that one gesture sent a wave of pain rolling down his frame – and saw his Zora, his beautiful mate, sitting on a small space of the berth beside his head. A small, warm hand brushed across his lips. Through all the pain and delusion, he saw her own lips trembling.

"It hurts," he sobbed.

"I know."

"I don't want to live anymore."

"You have to. Just for a little while longer."

"I can't do it….I can't….."

"Yes, you can," Zora scooted closer to him. Optimus felt another jolt, and this time, sparks literally flew.

"You have to do it….Ironhide won't."

"I'm not going to kill you, Optimus."

"_Please_," it was a pitiful beg.

"I can't."

Optimus was silent. Silent as he sat through the throbbing pain, biting his lip plates, trying not to scream and thrash around.

They stopped, suddenly. Stopped their insane chewing and just sat there, buried in his frame behind bits of wires that Ratchet would never be able to get through to, but even then, everything was made up of pain.

And then the Earth opened up and swallowed him again.


	41. Hope

Lennox and Ironhide were out in Synapsis when it happened.

They were driving, just the two of them. Lennox, in the drivers seat, leaning back, not even touching the steering wheel. Why should he care? There was no one to see him, anyway. Synapsis was a ghost town. A dead town.

They were looking for bugs. Ratchet had asked them to bring one back as a sample, and Ironhide had asked to go alone. Lennox had persuaded him to let him tag along. It was a human Cybertronian bonding opportunity, as Lennox put it. Plus, he didn't think Ironhide, no matter how big or strong or smart he may be, would be able to take on the bugs alone.

He would have gladly asked Zora to tag along, but he knew that she wasn't doing so well.

"How do you think Prime is doing, Hide?" Lennox asked, letting his gun rest in his lap. He had gotten so used to carrying it with him in Synapsis now.

"Dying," Ironhide spat. Then, his voice softened. Just a little. He still kept that steel edge to his voice. "Ratchet is doing everything he can."

"Do you think that he'll make it?"

"Prime is strong," Ironhide answered. "But I doubt strength will help him much…."

Lennox rested his head against the back of the seat, looking out at the poor town before him. Most everybody was homeless and mostly street gangs prowled the streets at night.

Hard to believe that Zora used to come here. The red haired female didn't seem like the type to get into any gangs.

He had seen the look in her eyes. Seen the dead, hallow look. Like she was missing a part of her soul. He hated seeing her like that. She was a soldier that had suffered more than she could bear.

A scream. Coming from a nearby store. People poured out of the doors, some going as far as leaping through the dirty glass window. Glass flew. More screams.

Through one of the smashed windows emerged the devil himself.

Drake.

The boy stood arms crossed, a swarm of red-eyed bugs behind him, crawling through the doors, licking their chops. They eyed the fleeting humans and scuttled after them. Eager, they were. Black mandibles clicking. Barbed tongues flicking in and out, a gesture that reminded Lennox of a snake tasting the air.

On any other day, Lennox wouldn't have hesitated.

But he knew about Drake's powers. He knew what the boy was capable of. He would give him three seconds to surrender, then, as he hopped out of Ironhide and heard the whirling and clicking of his transformation, he would shoot.

"Three seconds," he whispered to himself.

Drake stepped over two mutilated corpses, grinning when the bug behind him rushed to claim its prize.

"Terrorizing Synapsis for no reason, human…." Ironhide raised his cannons. "What are you doing here, Drake?"

"Looking for trouble, of course," Drake flashed Lennox a smile, his hideous, demonic red eyes twinkling. There was blood in his teeth. And in his hair and on his clothes. "Trouble, trouble, everywhere. And I happen to see you two passing by…."

Lennox gulped, raising his gun.

"Say, Will, how's your wife doing? I heard you have a sweet little girl waiting at home for you," Drake cocked his head to the side, thinking for a moment. "Hm. Maybe when I'm done with Miami, I'll pay them both a visit."

Lennox squeezed the trigger. The blast hit Drake in the chest.

The boy/monster was still standing, and with a sweep of his hands, he sent Ironhide flying back about twenty feet, leaving Lennox standing with his gun raised. Behind Drake, humans where limping out of the store, slowly, nursing there damaged limbs. Through the smashed window, Lennox saw that the floor was slick with blood and piled high with corpses that the bugs were so happily enjoying.

"_Drake_," Lennox said. His throat was dry and what came out was barely a rasp. He glanced back and saw that Ironhide was not moving.

"Yes, William," Drake replied with sickening politeness.

Lennox wanted to throw up. To puke, right there on the spot. But he held his ground. He had to stall until the remaining humans got out, and until Ironhide was done picking himself up off the ground. A sudden fear engulfed the Major. What if Ironhide couldn't take Drake? Arcee had fought Drake once and come out on the losing end.

Lennox gulped and opened his mouth to speak.

"You're under arrest."

A surprised laugh. Drake took a step towards him.

"Stop, or I _won't_ hesitate to shoot."

"I'm coming so you can arrest me. C'mon. Slap some cuffs on me, _officer_."

People where still limping out of the store. Slow. Too slow. The bugs devoured the remaining humans in seconds.

Drake raised his hands. Lennox fired. He fired and fired. He had to kill Drake, kill him, kill him, kill him before he hurt anyone else.

He felt his feet leave the ground. He felt that crystalline moment of flying before he smashed into the dirt, gun flying from his fingers. It clattered against the concrete.

Get up. Get up. This is what you do. Get up.

An invisible fist pummeled him in the chest, knocking him back down as he scrambled to his feet. Then, Drake's face, inches from his.

"I'd kill you, Will, but unfortunately, I don't have time," Drake glance at Ironhide, who was slowly getting to his feet. "You see, I have places to _go_, people to _kill_. Lots of people. A whole city full of them. And I want you and your N.E.S.T troops to come and pay me a visit."

The roar of an engine. A blast of sirens, and then Barricade was rolling up beside Drake, light flashing.

Behind Lennox, Ironhide was stumbling too his feet and raising his cannons, rushing at Drake. Slow. Far too slow.

"C'mon, you big stupid brute!" Drake yelled as Barricade's doors opened. "Come and get me, you filthy pile of crap!"

Ironhide began to transform down, tires screeching.

Lennox shouted, "Ironhide! _Don't!"_

Lennox tried to move, but found that his limbs wouldn't work right. He looked up at Drake with fearful eyes as the boy ducked his head and climbed inside Barricade.

"I'll see you in Miami, Will."

With that, Drake flung Lennox back, raised a hand, and brought it down. The invisible fist pummeled him again.

And then Lennox found himself losing consciousness and swirling into a pit of blackness.

* * *

><p>Optimus was dying.<p>

Zora was losing it.

Ironhide had gone flying off after Drake and Barricade, heedless.

The Decepticons were about to launch their single most brutal attack since coming to Earth.

Ratchet sat in the med bay, twirling a wrench, weak as a kitten. Optimus lay, screaming for Ratchet to offline him, screaming that Primus let him die in peace. All Ratchet could do was sit and listen, sit and try to resist clawing out his audio receptors.

He told himself that he dared call himself a medic. He was a medic that could not treat one of his most important patients when they needed him most. It was a disgrace.

Optimus ceased his yelling, suddenly. Turning his massive head to look at Ratchet.

"Where is she?" He wheezed.

"Zora?"

"Y-yes. I-I need to s-see her before I…"

Ratchet watched as Optimus tried to twist out of the cuffs holding him to the table. He hadn't hit full delirium yet, but when he did, the cuffs would prove their purpose.

When he hit delirium, that was when he would likely try and offline himself. If he even had the awareness to do so. Most likely it would be screaming, and screaming, and thrashing around.

"Rest, Prime," Ratchet whispered, forcing his head back down. He didn't know what to say after that.

"It hurts so much…." Optimus moaned.

"I know. I-I'm sorry," Ratchet sighed. "I can't help you. I'm so sorry…."

The door to the med bay opened and Ratchet had to stop himself for screaming at whoever it was.

Arcee rolled in, and to his surprise, Zora was sitting on her shoulder. Ratchet saw soldiers, human and Cybertronian, rushing down the hallways, frantic.

"We have an issue."

"Drake?"

"Who else? Lennox just got back with a report…." Arcee sighed and shook her head, "Drake is going to attack Miami."

"What?"

"Must I repeat myself…." Arcee shot him a quizzical look. Zora shifted from his position on Arcee's shoulder and stared past Ratchet, at Optimus with dead eyes. She didn't speak. She rarely ever smiled, and from what Mikaela had told him, she hadn't been sleeping or eating, either, something that drastically affected a humans health. He had meant to talk to her about it later...

She was dying alongside Optimus.

"Murder. Drake is going to murder every human in Miami."

Ratchet cursed in Cybertronian and took a look back at Prime. The large mech seemed to be listening, but his optics were dim and his body was limp. Ratchet sighed and turned back to Arcee, and saw that Zora was now staring at him, a small, almost unnoticeable flicker of hope in her eyes. He reached down and gently picked her up, letting her sit on the small space next to Optimus' head. Immediately she leaned against his cheek and whispered words into his audio receptors.

Ratchet, with a heavy sigh, turned back to Arcee. The news seemed old to him. It was always the same thing. Another attack, more blood, more patients, more death and destruction.

"We don't have Optimus."

"We can still fight!" Arcee exclaimed. "We can't let the con's win!"

"No, Arcee."

Arcee huffed and placed her small hands on her hips. The femme was determined.

"Optimus would want us to offline fighting," she said through clenched dental plates as she spun and rolled towards the door. "Not sit here and mope around like a bunch of sad sparkling's."

Ratchet watched as Arcee flew out into the hallway with the other soldiers who looked just as determined as she did.

What could Ratchet do?

What had he done so far?

Maybe this really was the end. Maybe fate had never been on their side.

He glanced back at Zora and saw that she was sniffing. Crying. Fluids running down her cheek. And even then, when the whole world was against her, she still had that tiny twinkle of hope in her eyes.

Ratchet paused and thought for a moment.

If little Zora Parker, a mere human, could be hopeful….then why couldn't he?

* * *

><p>Drake sat in the drivers seat, holding his head.<p>

Joy. Ecstasy. Fear. Pain. Relief.

Every emotion Drake could think of flowed from The Fallen, into Drake's own mind, making his head feel like it was being stabbed again and again by a million knives.

The pain was so great that Drake bit his tongue.

Bit his tongue so hard that he could taste his own salty blood.

He could feel them, feel his servants, close by. Feel their anxiety as they waited for orders, like jets waiting for takeoff.

"Drive, Barricade, drive!" Drake slammed his palm against the steering wheel and Barricade accelerated, sirens blasting, not really caring whether or not he had to shove other cars out of the way.

Behind them, Ironhide followed.

"Where?" Barricade's voice filtered through the speakers, and Drake leaned back.

"Miami."

"Are we really following through with your plan without orders from Megatron?"

"Screw Megatron!" Drake bellowed. "I play by my own rules!"

Barricade took a hard left, and Drake was flung to the side. He hissed and held his head as the searing headache returned.

"You're going to regret this, Drake," Barricade warned.

"Shut up and drive."

"I do not take orders from _you_, fleshling."

_"Do not challenge me."_

The voice that came from Drake was not his. Drake's eyes darted back and forth, and he snarled and twisted in his seat.

The stupid Autobot wasn't following. It was just him and Barricade, speeding across the highway, already over the speed limits.

Horns blared. Barricade ignored them and kept on driving.

They reached the city just as the sun had retreated behind the horizon, the full moon out and glowing brightly.

Down the road they drove, passing only a few cars, pulling into the parking lot of some shop, not caring when some humans saw the vehicle and bolted.

Barricade transformed as Drake hopped out.

He could hear them. They skittered through the night, leaping over parked cars and knocking over trash cans.

They stopped in front of Drake, huge things, some the size of ponies. Red eyes oozing pus and mandibles covered in gore.

The perfect mold of machine and insect.

Behind him, Barricade readied his weapons.

Drake smiled. Time to snuff out the Autobot's little flicker of hope.


	42. Destroyer

**And thus begins the somewhat-epic final battle. I hope you enjoy it...Oh, and don't forget to send feedback.**

**Don't own it. Never have, never will.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>He was death.<p>

Death had an army.

His army! They listened to him, and him only. And now he was telling them that it was time for revenge, time to kill and kill and keep killing until blood filled the streets.

Drake threw back his head and laughed. Laughed so loud that it caused the bugs beside him to cringe back.

"Do you have a plan?" Barricade asked. He stood behind Drake, staring at him with that pompous, smug smirk of his. Like Drake was nothing. Like he was some human pet of Megatron's.

Oh, he would show them. He would show them all.

"A_ plan_, my dear Barricade?" Drake purred. "Who needs a plan when you can just _kill_?"

"You're a sadist."

"Aren't we all?" Drake replied. He looked back and saw the uneasiness on Barricade's features. He knew who was in control. All Drake had to do was gesture, and he could turn Barricade into a smoking pile of metal.

One thought. One thought and he could start the killing. Smiling, he clicked his tongue, telling half of his bug troops to head towards the N.E.S.T base. Optimus was bound to be there, as was Zora.

"Kill everyone in the base. Bring me Optimus and Zora, alive."

Yes. Kill everyone. Drake had a list. Autobots first, then humans.

Optimus. Arcee. Ratchet. Ironhide. Bumblebee. Sam. Mikaela. Lennox. Epps.

He would leave Zora. She was to precious to be killed.

The bugs all turned their heads towards him. Demonic red eyes pierced through Drake, seeming to look past to his very soul. Nodding, half of them skittered off into the night.

The roar of an engine snapped him out of his daydream. Barricade readied his weapons. Drake readied his hands. Through the dark of the night, Drake saw the black GMC Topkick slide across the asphalt.

What an idiot, Drake thought. Coming to face them alone.

"Ironhide?" Drake said conversationally. "What brings you here?"

"Surrender."

"Nah. Not now. Not never," Drake crossed his arms and began to pace back and forth, as if he were giving an oral presentation to an eager audience. "You see, I can't be killed."

"I've seen what you can do, Drake."

"Really? Then I don't have to bore you with all the details."

"Frankly, its not that impressive."

Drake's head snapped up. He got a snicker from Barricade and a small teetering noise rippled through the mass of bugs. It was like they heard and registered the insult and were now laughing at him. Their lord. Their master.

Drake raised his hands.

"He's baiting you," Barricade said gruffly, not dropping his weapons. "He's stalling."

"Oh, yes, well…." Drake dropped his hands to the side.

With blinding speed, he struck, sending a parked car spiraling towards Ironhide. The black mech dodged, rolling to the side, hopping up and firing at Drake, who had dropped to the ground to allow Barricade the honors.

Barricade struck. Again and again, in the blink of an eye. Dancing towards Ironhide, grinning with glee.

"Don't get cocky, you idiot!" Drake shouted. He looked towards the bugs, who were still waiting for his command.

"Shut up, human!" Barricade replied. "I don't need your-"

_Blam!_

A blast from Ironhide's cannons silenced the mech.

Barricade stood still, staring down in shock at the massive hole that had been blown through his spark.

He fell back, claws twitching. His optics dimmed, and then blinked out completely.

And that was the end of that.

With a roar of anger, Drake sent his invisible force straight at Ironhide, causing him to stumble back and fall. He landed, rolled, and hopped back up, cannons raised.

_Blam, Blam._

The shots were deafening. They hit inches from Drake, sending up chunks of rock and asphalt. The teenager snarled and backed up, bumping into Barricade's dead body.

"What are your plans, Drake?" Ironhide snarled. He had a clear shot.

"Me? I'm about to go on an epic killing spree!"

"You'll have to get past me, first."

Drake grinned as the weapons specialist crouched down low, in a defensive position. Overjoyed, Drake told himself that Ironhide would be the first to die.

Smiling, Drake said, "I wouldn't want it any other way."

* * *

><p>"I love you."<p>

It was a small whisper. Zora didn't even think Optimus heard it because he was too busy moaning for Ratchet to put him out of his misery. She had told him that she was there for him, that she loved him with very fiber of her being.

It wasn't working. He kept on screaming and screaming like he would never stop.

"Primus, let me offline," he sobbed.

Only a few dozen soldiers remained on the base, all dressed and ready for battle. Their one goal was to protect Optimus while Ratchet did his best to try and save him.

Bumblebee, Sam, and Mikaela had stayed as well. Zora was surprised to find that N.E.S.T had allowed them to both brandish guns.

She didn't need a gun. She had her own killing light.

She sat up on the berth with Optimus, fingers tracing the Cybertronian symbols etched on his helm. He moaned and shifted a little, murmuring in his native language before dimming his optics. Zora didn't know if he knew she was even there. He wasn't showing signs of it.

"Zora," Ratchet said. "I need to run some scans."

"I won't get in the way."

"Yes, you will. Now shoo." Ratchet reached to pick her up, setting her down near the door and using his hands to shoo her away like a fly. Reluctantly, she walked outside to join Sam, Mikaela, and Bumblebee.

"How is he?" Sam asked. Bumblebee knelt down out of concern.

"Not screaming. Just rambling away in Cybertronian."

Mikaela, who was silent, looked up. She looked just as concerned as Zora, and Zora had to remind herself that she had know Optimus a lot longer than she had. He wasn't just a leader to her and Sam, he was a friend.

She sniffed and wiped away a tear.

"God….I have got to stop crying…." Zora hissed.

Bumblebee warbled and reached up under his armor to produce a small white cloth. He handed it to Zora, reluctantly, waiting to see how she would respond.

Zora took it and wiped her eyes, feeling weak and ashamed. Crying certainly wouldn't help Optimus.

"He can't die. He just can't…." Zora said, wiping her eyes again and burying her head into Mikaela's shoulder. Her friend held her, stroking her hair, whispering to her.

Zora pulled away and glanced at Sam.

"He wanted to see you next."

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Mikaela shot him a look and pushed him towards the door. It opened, and he slid inside, looking back at the two girls once more.

"Go." Zora sniffed. Bumblebee reached down and ran a finger down her back, much like Optimus would do.

Zora sniffed and wiped her eyes again, turning away from Mikaela, away from Bumblebee, and walking down the hall. Soldiers eyed her, each look full of a different emotion. Pity. Curiosity. Anger. She ignored them, though, and was about to go sit back in her quarters when a hand grabbed her shoulder from behind.

"Running isn't going to help."

"I don't want to see it when it happens."

Mikaela's mouth pulled into a tight line.

"You won't have to."

Zora opened her mouth to respond.

_Boom._

The walls shook. The lights flickered off, then on, and then off again. It sounded as if a tidal wave had had hit.

_Boom._

This time, Mikaela stumbled, and Zora had to reach out to steady her.

"What the hell…." Zora murmured. In the dark, she could still see a portion of Mikaela's expression. Shock. Horror. Fear.

"Its them."

"The bugs?"

"What else?" Mikaela snapped. She turned, just as the emergency lights kicked in, casting a red glow throughout the hallway. Soldiers ran, each wielding a gun, shouting orders to close all the doors and barricade the windows so nothing could get in, or out.

It was Egypt all over again. Protect Optimus. Don't get killed doing it.

"I need to go with them. I can burn them…." Zora said. Mikaela grabbed her.

"We need you in the med bay, as a last form of defense. The bugs want either you, or Optimus, or both. We can't have you being captured….or worse….in the first five seconds of the battle."

"How do you know?"

Mikaela winced. "I just know, okay. Now lets get back to the med bay."


	43. Down

Megatron's conscious told him that something was wrong.

Then again, he rarely ever listened to his conscious. The little voice in the back of his head that screamed danger was never something he would let control him, let alone be some type of advisor.

But this time something was gnawing at the back of his mind and, as he paced through the forest, talons bracing themselves on the trees for support, he couldn't help but wonder if his conscious was right.

Drake had yet to return from his little joyride with Barricade. The two had become an inseparable pair, like magnets.

It wasn't Drake's clinginess to Barricade that bothered him. It was the fact that he could feel his master, feel his cold tendrils probing the very back of his mind.

Fear. Chaos.

Megatron clutched his head. Get out, he thought.

"Get out."

"What was that, master?" Starscream's mock concern was enough to make Megatron want to scream. That or smash everything in sight.

"It's nothing."

"I would have thought that Drake would have sent us a message by now," Starscream began to follow Megatron, hunched over, ready to start groveling at a moments notice. He intertwined his talons and said, "it seems that your loyal dog isn't as loyal as he let on."

"Mute it, Starscream."

"Master? Honestly, I am quite concerned for your well being. Do you need a medic?"

"A medic won't be able to fix me…" Megatron growled. "Nothing will be able to end his perpetual commentary…"

"Who?"

"Who do you think?"

Starscream was silent, slinking back, behind the trees. Afraid. But it wasn't Megatron's fault that he was too stupid and weak to see the truth. But something was flickering behind his optics. Like he was waiting.

Waiting to make a move.

Stupid Starscream, Megatron thought. Yet smart. Smart stupid. Stupid smart.

Megatron growled as his head began to pound, a vicious throb that spoke of more things to come.

No. It wasn't time.

Not now…

"Drake!" Megatron bellowed, swinging around, knocking a tree over as he stormed towards Starscream, the seeker backing up, tripping over a log, nearly landing on his back. But Megatron's hand had shot out, gripping his wings and pulling him upwards.

Starscream whinnied in terror.

"Where is he?"

"Where is who, sire?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Starscream!" Megatron snarled. "Drake. Where did he tell you he was going?"

"Running a quick errand, sire…" Starscream hissed as Megatron's talons dug into his wings.

"Quick? He has been gone for over two Earth hours. Is that your definition of 'quick'?"

"O-of course not," Starscream stuttered. "He…he didn't tell me anything regarding where he was going…"

Megatron dropped Starscream, turning, thundering away.

It wasn't time.

"That fool…" Megatron growled, walking briskly.

_My disciple. You will not interfere with my plans._

Get out, Megatron snarled internally. Get out of my head.

"What is it?" Starscream asked cautiously.

"Stay here, Starscream. I mean it."

Starscream's mouth opened in protest, but Megatron had transformed and flown away, towards the city of Miami, before Starscream could say a word.

* * *

><p>For once, N.E.S.T was hopeless.<p>

Lennox knew the feeling; the feeling of being dragged down by despair, a tidal wave of what if's and how's and why's hitting him as hard as a rock.

But this was different.

He thought of Annabelle, and Sarah, back and home, hopefully fearing for his safety for their prayers were the only thing that could help him now, the only thing keeping him from falling in an abyss of desolation.

The bugs oozing red eyes would remain in his memory forever, he knew, his gun heavy in his hands, weighting him down like lead. They came in waves, skittering across overturned cars, their legs beating through the windshields and sending glass flying.

Lennox backed up. The soldiers beside him did the same. At least some managed to look determined, jaw set under a sticky complexion.

The first wave of gunfire mowed down only a few of the bugs, the large ones stumbling on their short legs and falling, the others plowing into the back of them.

Around Lennox, civilians screamed and ran for cover.

"Back!" It was Arcee shouting, the one Autobot who had taken command in Optimus' absence. "Back, back, back!"

Lennox scrambled across the hard asphalt, boots squeaking.

No use.

A wail mixed in with the explosion of gunfire went up from soldiers and civilians alike, the bugs falling on their victims with no mercy, no hesitation. Tongues shot out and wrapped around the waist of the innocent, dragging them into slicing mandibles.

Lennox, hands shaking, leveled, aimed, and blasted the head off of the nearest creature.

He ran back. Double checked, and bypassed Arcee, whose on weapons were blazing. But the massacre did not stop, not did the shrieks and snarls and screams and, in the background, a steady drum keeping a solid beat.

The ground shook as a bug, a gigantic hornet with flaring blue wings, slammed its head into a car and flipped it over, the machine tumbling head over heels, reduced to a crumpled mass of metal in a number of seconds.

Lennox cursed. Trailing beside him, Arcee gave him a quick shove in the direction of a crumbling house.

"Go!"

"Not witho–"

Lennox screamed and dove to the side, a bug's mandibles sweeping back and forth in a wide arc. One false step and he would have been disemboweled.

Arcee blasted the monster away, goo splattering in every direction. Lennox pushed himself up, head swimming, the buildings and streets and cars and people around him all bathed in a mixture of blood and green goo, the civilians helpless against the bugs questing teeth and reeling tongues.

Lennox stumbled away, down an alley, Arcee zooming past him. Lennox fired back and back and the bug trying to lodge its massive body into the alley, but it wouldn't fit, and Lennox was met with a steely cold glare from the creature, the remnants of a human arm stuck to its teeth.

He fired again, rapid bang, bang, bangs from his gun, and it sunk back with a hiss.

Down the cold street he ran, stumbling through a puddle of blood, stepping over the mangled bodies. Arcee, who was already at the intersection and checking back and forth, turned to him.

"This is fragging ridiculous," she said.

"No shit."

A pile of brick fell from the rooftop overhead, and the face of a wasp made itself perceivable. With a flutter of its wings, it scaled the wall, down into the alleyway, its lithe shape and small head equipping it with the ability to fit in between the narrow brick walls.

"Shit," Lennox cursed, his words drowned out by Arcee's gunfire. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit."_

The bug launched itself into the sky, it wings buffeting the air. Lennox barely had time to sidestep the sweeping mandibles splattered with gore, the bug putting all its weight into one massive tackle that, if executed against a human, would have killed them on the spot.

Arcee squealed and fell back as the bug dug its teeth into her shoulder.

Lennox opened fire at the bugs back, its wings spread out to provide just a _bit_ of cover….

He felt helpless. He was helpless, as he swung his gun in an arc, all subtlety abandoned, feeling the muzzle of the gun sink into the bugs back, sticking.

He fired again and again and again.

The bug shuddered, but did not die. Instead, it whipped its head around, baring black teeth at Lennox, a nasty hiss escaping its mouth along with a puff of blood-tinged air.

The soldier pulled out his gun, fired a wild shot, and then ran.

"Go!" Arcee shrieked. "Go! Run!"

Lennox saw the metal stairway out of the corner of his eye. It led up to a small balcony on the side of an old apartment building, a suitable feature if you were trying to escape from a massive, man-eating insect searching for its next meal.

Lennox bounded over, muscles screaming, throwing himself over a dumpster before gripping the railing on the side of the stairway.

He hoisted himself over just as the bug reached him, leaping up and curling a tongue around the railing.

For the second time that day, a scream tore at the back of Lennox's throat.

The things eyes darted back and fort, calculating plans and strategies. All the while, its feet kicked back and forth, its tongue flexing as it tried to get another hold.

Lennox scrambled with his gun just as the bug pulled itself onto the staircase. With a cry of alarm, the human threw himself farther up.

He reached for the railing when he felt it.

Teeth, piercing through his uniform, tearing through the sinew and bone and into his leg. In that intense, mind-shattering second he could only think of the grinding death that was sure to come.

But instead, the bug dragged him down the stairs. With each step, Lennox's head would bash painfully against the metal, the blood from his leg creating a fresh trail.

Lennox bit his lip and fought through the pain.

Fought hard. Gritting his teeth, he slammed his opposite foot into the bugs eye. The creature hissed, but its grip did not slacken, its mandibles crunching through bone.

Lennox couldn't help the scream of agony that escaped him.

Arcee was there, suddenly, engine revving in a loud explosion as she jumped and wrapped her arms around the bug.

She pulled the bug down and Lennox went with it. His head hit the concrete, stars erupting before his eyes, and his next thoughts were, _I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm going to die, God, and why is this happening to….._

Steeling himself, hands shooting to the back of his head to feel the warm, sticky blood, he looked up and saw Arcee tearing the bug to pieces with her swords.

Green goo splattered against his bloodstained uniform. The agony from his leg, a mangled, throbbing mass beneath him, seemed to immobilize every muscle in his body.

But he got up. Despite the sheer horror of the writhing creature whose wings had been removed, whose legs were gone and whose eyes stared upward free from any emotion, William Lennox stood and supported himself against Arcee.

"Let me…."

"No. No," Lennox hissed. "Arcee, listen to me."

"I'm listening."

"…."

"Will?"

"Go get her."

"Get who?"

"You know who I…." A wave of pain, and Lennox collapsed. Biting his lip, he said, "Get her and bring her here."

Arcee, shoulders trembling, bug guts dribbling down her metallic face, said, "She's just a human."

Lennox reared up, baring his white teeth. "I don't care! Do you want to be responsible for all these deaths?" he choked back a sudden cry of pain. "It all comes down to this, Arcee. It all comes down to_ this_."

Arcee nodded and gave Lennox a solute. "I'll go," she said. "I'll go for Optimus."

"_Then drive, Arcee, drive._"_  
><em>

* * *

><p>Ironhide shouldered past the bugs and lashed out with his foot.<p>

He kicked Drake, hard. It was like being hit by a bus. The human was a blur until he smashed his head into the side of a building, sending up chunks of brick.

There, that should have killed him. It should have turned him into mush. Ironhide shook his head in disgust, then cried out as a sticky tongue latched onto his arm and pulled. The appendage groaned and sparks flew. Ironhide, gritting his dental plates, reached over and tore it away, snapping it like a whip.

The tongue came free and the bug sunk to the ground, trying to skitter away. Ironhide blasted it with his cannons.

Another wrapped around his leg, trying to pull him down. Instead, with a jerk of his leg, it was the bug that was falling down, smashing against the concrete. Another latched on to his leg, teeth flashing like some horrible, hideous display.

Another, around his arm. Pulling him so his face bounced painfully against the ground.

He got to his feet, threw a punch, and nailed one right in between its horrible, demonic eyes. His fist went all the way through and came out the other end, covered in green slime.

He yanked it out and kicked it to the side.

"Wow. That was nice. That could have killed me. You know, If I could be killed."

Ironhide's optics widened at Drake, who was picking himself out from under the rubble, neck twisted all the way around, arms shattered, bones shattered, but still standing, walking, able to talk.

"How…."

At the sight of their master, the bugs grew even more frenzied. They rushed at Ironhide, full speed, all trying to get to him. Mandibles scraped against his armor. Tongues slapped across his face, across his arms and legs and chassis. One slapped across his optic, and he could barely make out Drake, standing on the sidewalk, arms crossed, smug.

"Better hope someone comes to save you fast,_ Ironhide_. Because it looks like you're going _down_."

* * *

><p>Zora was just going to the med bay when he heard the shouts of soldiers and the screech of tires.<p>

Arcee's form rolled to a stop beside her, and even in the red glow of the emergency lights, Zora could see that her face was a mask of worry. Zora looked down and saw something in her hand.

"How did you…."

"…..get in?"

"Yeah."

She shrugged her metal shoulders. "I guess….._VIP_? Is that what you humans call it?"

For the first time in days, Zora managed to crack a smile. She looked down at the object in Arcee's hand, back at Arcee, then back at the object. She frowned, realizing what she was hinting.

"No."

"Major Lennox told me to come and get you."

Zora looked around. The hallway was empty, and she could hear those horrible, ghastly moans coming from the med bay. Arcee followed her gaze, her frame shaking.

"He would want you to do it."

Zora backed away and shook her head. "Just because I have powers, doesn't mean that I can…I can't."

"We need you."

They needed her. Yeah, right. She was just as kid. She wasn't a hero, and didn't intend to be.

She turned her back and walked towards the med bay. A strong, metal hand on her shoulder caused her to spin. Arcee towered over her, her gaze stern and her teeth bared.

"It's an _order_."

"I'm not a soldier."

"You are now."

Arcee tossed her the helmet. Zora caught it, holding it in her arms, tight. Arcee transformed down into her alt mode and revved her engine.

"Drake is there. He's the only one with the power to end all of this. He'll need some convincing."

"We won't make it in time," Zora pointed out. She flinched when Arcee revved her engine again, out of irritation.

"You and your negativity…." She growled. "I can drive faster than _any_ Earth-made vehicle."

"Seriously?" Zora gripped the handlebars and put on the helmet.

"Don't worry. You won't fall off."

"Then _why_ did you bring the helmet?"

Zora heard Arcee laugh as the bike jerked forward, tires squealing across the floor.

"In case you fall off."


	44. Hero

Sam was pacing. Back and forth, until he figured out why nobody ever really paced. It was boring and it accomplished nothing. So, he went and sat by Bumblebee, who was in a corner in the med bay, watching Ratchet work away at Optimus.

The Autobot leader had ceased his constant screaming and moaning and was now murmuring away in a mix between Cybertronian and English.

Sam recognized names. Zora. He was whispering for her.

"Ratchet….where is she?"

"Rest, Prime. Not talk."

"I need her…"

"She had to step out for a moment…"

"I love…I love her…I…."

On his left, Mikaela let out a small whine, intended to hide her sob.

Zora had disappeared with Arcee. Apparently, she had been needed to play the hero this time. And now, Sam, Mikaela, Bumblebee, Ratchet, a dying Optimus Prime, and a handful of N.E.S.T soldiers were left at the base.

The tremors had stopped while ago, and they had taken that time to barricade even more of the doors. Sam could just see the bugs in his mind, trying to push through the walls. He didn't know how far away they were, but he knew the second wave had hit right after Zora had left, unnoticed by the bugs or anyone else.

Leaning back against Bumblebee's leg, Sam felt the urge to say something to his girlfriend. Something comforting, at least. But she was ignoring him, busy rapping her fingers against the floor.

Sam saw Ratchet turn and grab a few tools from the nearby table. The medic looked ready to collapse.

"You three really shouldn't be in here."

"We need to stay with Optimus."

The medic made a noise, and that was that. He didn't fling anything, or shoo them out with his hands. He hadn't even put up a fight.

Those were the only words spoken for the next two minutes. Even Bumblebee seemed dead inside.

_Boom!_

The tremor was the largest one yet. Ratchet stumbled and Optimus moaned in pain and Mikaela lost her balance and fell to the side.

"What the slag…."

Several things happened at once, and it took a second for Sam's befuddled mind to make sense of them all.

Screaming. Gunshots. Skittering noises. The sound of bones being chewed and ground up.

Something was trying to pry open the med bay doors. A long, hooked horn that looked like it belonged to some type of huge beetle. Like something out of a horror movie.

Bumblebee was up in seconds, blasting it away, but it was soon replaced by another one that managed to push its whole body through.

"Protect Optimus!" Ratchet shouted.

Sam barely heard him. The beetle was huge, the size of a pony, at least. Glowing red eyes like the devil himself. Mouth open, it showed off its huge teeth, dripping with human blood. It had just fed on human flesh, and it intended to feed again.

Mikaela screamed. Sam had never heard such a horrible, gut wrenching sound.

The bug lunged at Sam, and he barely had enough time to grab his gun and swing it like a club. The bug fell back, dazed, and Bumblebee seized the opportunity and stepped on it, grinding it beneath his foot. Guts sprayed across Sam's shirt.

"There's more…." Mikaela sobbed, holding her gun. "Oh, God, there's more."

Bumblebee warbled and readied his weapons as more and more of the horrible creatures oozed through the doors. Slow. Like they were trying to taunt them into submission. Taunt them into death.

They were death. Sam could see it in their oozing, devilish red eyes.

Everything, from Mission City to the battle in Egypt, nothing could compare to the sheer amount of terror he was feeling.

He watched them, watched as they eyed Optimus and Ratchet and Bumblebee and Mikaela and him, fresh meat.

Watched their horrid mouths turn upwards. A smile.

"Jesus, save us, Jesus, save us," someone was sobbing, and in the back of his mind, Sam knew that it was him.

* * *

><p>The only thing Zora could hear was the hurricane of wind in her ears. Everything around her was a blur, and the only thing she could feel was the pain in her hands from clenching the handlebars so tight. Her hair whipped back and her insides felt as if they had been turned to mush. It made even the most intense roller coaster rides look like a leisurely stroll.<p>

Arcee turned sharply. Zora almost let go. Almost.

They went down the highway, tearing past abandoned or crashed cars.

A turn so sharp that it send Zora flying off Arcee, cartwheeling through the air. Transforming as she drove, Arcee reached out and grabbed her ankle, holding her with one hand. Zora was surprised that she didn't break a leg.

Then, a blur and a sudden, gut wrenching stop.

She was pretty sure she'd been screaming the entire time.

"We're here," Arcee said. Zora clasped a hand over her mouth, already close to puking. Arcee flipped her back over and let her feet, which felt like jelly, come in firm contact with the ground.

"_Never_….do that again," Zora gasped, doubled over, feeling the last waves of nausea disappear.

Finally, she looked up. The streets were chaos. Buildings on fire. Screaming civilians of all ages running as they were being devoured by the monstrosities that were the bugs.

Gunshots, and an explosion that shook the ground. Arcee wobbled and Zora tripped and fell to her knees.

"Where's Lennox?" Zora asked.

Arcee turned and searched wildly. She looked down at Zora with worried optics.

"Where's Drake?"

Arcee opened her mouth to answer, but then, there was Epps, running towards them and shouting like a crazy person.

"Zora! Help Ironhide!"

"What?"

"It's Ironhide! He's down!"

Zora cursed. Epps was pointing across the street, to where Ironhide was right in the middle of all the bugs, roaring, thrashing around. With each passing second, his voice got fainter and fainter.

Zora ran. Fast. Ignoring Arcee's cries. She raised her hands and fired, the twin beams of green light burning right through the creatures.

"Zora!" Arcee called, rolling after her. "What about Drake?"

"You can take him."

"What?"

"Just go!"

Arcee was gone before Zora could even protest. Great. She was left out here to fight for herself. She broke into a run, down the street, towards Ironhide.

She kept on running and praying that she wasn't already to late. They couldn't lose someone else….not now…not yet. Not after everything they had been through. She searched frantically for Ironhide as she ran. Nowhere. Not seen beneath the slicing mandibles.

Down the road she ran, sprinting. Past an insurance company building.

Zora saw the bugs, but they did not see her. They were too busy focusing on the group of people huddled in the building of the insurance company, legs scraping against the glass door that refused to shatter. The people inside were frantic, none trying to fight back. They were too horror-stricken.

Before she could stop herself, her hands shot out, blistering green fire destroying the creatures in seconds. The people inside just froze, mouths open in something akin to shock.

"_Run_, you idiots!" Zora screamed.

They all made a beeline for the door, scrambling over each other, cursing as more bugs swarmed into view. It was like a never ending tidal wave that Zora couldn't avoid, and in seconds, Ironhide disappeared from her sight, replaced by bloody teeth.

She backpedaled quickly, shooting and yelling. The bugs burned. The humans in the insurance building were still screaming and trying to get out. A boy tumbled out into the street, tried to jump back through the doors, but the delay was deadly and he was snatched up like a rag doll and eaten.

I'm sorry, Ironhide, she thought.

She turned, jaws clenched, hands raised. In the moonlight, she saw a flash of silver, and fired. The bug shriveled up like a raisin.

She was so focused on the battle that she almost missed the sudden crash behind her. She turned, just as those claws, those sharp, demented talons, tore through her shirt and pinned her to the ground.

"You remember me, don't you, _girl_," Megatron sneered.

Zora had only one thought: Fire.

She fired. The beams hit him in the shoulder, sending small flecks of burning metal flying. Some hit Zora's cheek, but she ignored them and rolled as Megatron brought his fist down.

She came up on one knee and hit him again, this time, catching the side of his face. He looked even uglier than before, with half of his face dribbling down the side of his head and down his neck. She took the opportunity and ran.

Muffled screams from inside a nearby hospital joined the background roar, a noise out of a child's hell. Agonizing, desperate cries for help and the sound of guns firing and metal against metal. Off to the side, Ironhide, his voice no longer heard over the sound of mouthparts gnashing.

She glanced back. Megatron was stumbling after her, cursing in his native language. She ran faster. Tripped over the body of a soldier, hopped back up, and kept running until her legs burned, a small price to pay for trying to live.

So, she thought, this is how Sam had felt in Mission City. Running with the fate of the world in his hands, not knowing if he would live to tell the tale.

She stopped dead.

"You can't run," she told herself.

"Can't."

She turned, fired, and watched as Megatron dropped and rolled to the side, dodging, his own weapon ready.

Zora was able to duck as he shot at her. The blast ruffled her hair and turned the asphalt behind her into a smoking pile of goo.

Zora fired and Megatron dodged, coming back up and firing his own shot, blowing the top of a nearby fountain of its pedestal and sending it splashing into fetid water.

A blast, an explosion beside her, then a flash of silver metal and Zora fired again, drawing a roar of pain.

"Give up, girl," he snarled. "You can't win. When I catch you, I'm going to kill you. Slowly."

She shuddered as he stalked her, crouching low, talons eager and ready to rip her apart. He was waiting for her to run. He had never had a human stand up against him. She could see it in his glowing red optics.

She backed up and he lunged, swatting her hard, sending her flying back through the air. She landed flat on her back, stunned, blood coming from her ears and nose and mouth, limbs all askew. Her arm, it was bent in the wrong direction, and her breath was knocked out of her as she stared up at the massive creature.

Megatron leaned over her, smug, fist raised, ready to turn her into a smear on the pavement.

Zora felt hatred burn through her and erupt from one good hand.

The tyrant wasn't able to move in time. The blast caught him, right near his spark, burning through his chest. He screamed and stumbled back, clawing at the massive, dripping hole.

Zora tried to stand, but her head was swimming and there was the sickly smell of blood all around her._ Her_ blood. And her arm...oh, God...her arm wasn't supposed to bend that way...

When she looked up, she saw Megatron transform and fly away as quickly as possible, leaving a gray trail of smoke in his wake.

She lay there, blood streaming from her side and mouth, arms and legs cut and bleeding. She howled as she rolled over, every muscle and sinew burning in agony.

But she was able to focus. She remembered something someone had taught her...her mother? Drake? _Ratchet_?

She made a puny fist with her left hand, and then began to turn her arm outward, away...she screamed as she felt the tendons began to pull in ways they should not, and she doubled over, sweat rolling down her forehead. With a loud curse, she kept on turning, biting the inside of her mouth so hard that she tasted salty blood. She kept on clenching her fist, twisting her arm, and soon, after another scream of agony, the bone popped back into place.

She had done it.

But she hadn't helped anyone except for herself. Ironhide was probably already dead, and she wanted to help him, but her legs wouldn't work right and the whole world was spinning.

Suddenly, the hero role seemed a whole lot less attractive.

Strong hands hoisted her up, and she felt herself being pressed against someone's body.

"Epps?"

"C'mon, kiddo."

"Where are we…going."

"Retreating."

She pulled away from the tired, dirty soldier and fell to her knees. She reached down and felt the blood on her side.

"No," she said. "I need to find Drake."

"You're in no condition to take on anyone. Especially Drake, of all people."

Clenching her teeth, shutting out the wave of nausea, she got to her feet and managed to stay like that, despite her shaky legs. She turned her back to Epps, and walked down the street.

"Where is he?" She snarled. "_He_ started this fight."

"Zora…"

"_He_ can end it.

* * *

><p>This is the Pit, Arcee thought. Or something like that.<p>

To her left a little boy no older than nine was scooped up and devoured, and she, twin blades flashing, was on it in a second, screaming and slicing even thought the boy was already dead.

Already dead. Everyone was already dead.

A group of human's were huddled against the corner of a building, screaming as bug tongues flew towards them like striking cobra's.

Arcee, tires squealing, threw herself at the bug and stabbed it in the back with her blades. Then, she yanked, the bug coming with it, the tongue missing a human girl, flying inches over her head.

She screamed.

"Run, girl, ruuuunnnn!" Arcee shrieked.

The human was gone in a flash, leaving Arcee to wrangle with the bug that was as big and strong as a bull. It was trying to twist out of the grip of the sword but was only tearing a bigger wound for itself. Slimy bug intestines spilled out onto Arcee's arm.

Finally, her sword came free and she was sent flying back and into a parked car as the bug reared back and hit her.

It was like getting hit by a bus. Arcee rolled as the bug's tongue slapped against the dented hood.

She used her sword to slice off the tongue, watching as it writhed around in the bug's mouth like some living being of its own, and then formed her blaster and stuck it in the biggest, bleeding wound.

The bugs head exploded in a shower of green goo. It slid off the car hood, leaving a green trail in its wake, and hit the ground, legs still kicking.

Still alive.

Arcee stuck her gun into one of its eyes and fired. Once, twice, three times until its legs ceased their desperate kicking.

She wanted to do so much more violent things to the creature, but something distracted her. A shape moving across the street, oblivious to the blood bath around him.

Drake.

Arcee didn't know what happened next, all she heard was the roar of wind in her audio receptors and a grunt as she barreled into Drake before he could react.

They went tumbling, Arcee having the advantage because she was two feet taller and ten times stronger.

They hit the ground and bounced, Arcee grabbing Drake's neck and snapping his head forward so fast that blood sprayed from his ears and nose, and then punched his hard in the gut. So hard that she heard the unmistakable sound of cracking bones, and that sound, that _one_ sound, filled her with so much joy that she wanted to weep.

His breathing was raspy, uneven, but he was able to snarl at Arcee when she lifted him up, holding him by the neck.

He spat in her face, flecks of blood splattering onto her cheek.

Before he could get a word out Arcee threw him as hard as she could. He spiraled through the air and fifty yards away, hitting the concrete with an audible smack.

Arcee watched as he causally picked himself off the ground like it was nothing and sauntered back towards her, sweat drenched, hair covered in dirt and blood and something else that Arcee didn't want to identify.

_Unkillable_, Drake mouthed the words.

Arcee knew better. Thousands of years of traveling to different planets with different species had taught her one thing.

The unkillable was always killable.


	45. Gone

**Can you believe that this is the second to last chapter? I can't. Anyway, send me ya feedback, as always.**

**I don't own Transformers.**

* * *

><p>Ratchet watched in frozen terror as the bugs pushed themselves into the med bay.<p>

He saw Sam running, screaming, swinging the gun like a club as he ran out into the hallway. Mikaela wasn't far behind him.

He shouted, "No!"

But he couldn't do anything because now, Sam and Mikaela were in the middle of the fight, screaming and shooting along with the other doomed soldiers. They pushed the bugs back into the hall, and soon, Ratchet was left with only Bumblebee to guard him.

"Ratchet_! Ratchet_!"

The medic looked down at Optimus, whose optics were wide. His body was no longer like anything recognizable. Wires and tubes under the armor pulsated. The creatures were tearing through, mandibles biting away at the armor as they scrambled to get out. One burst all the way through and froze for a second, staring at Ratchet with jade eyes.

Crying out, the medic snatched it up and crushed it in his hand, letting it drop to the floor. But its legs were still kicking madly and even thought the thing was immobile it refused to die.

"Bumblebee!" Ratchet shouted, on the verge of losing himself to panic completely, "Close the door!"

The little scout warbled in protest and pointed to the battle raging outside. Blood splattered around the edges of the door. Ratchet wondered if any of it belonged to Sam or Mikaela.

"I _know_ about the humans! Just do what I say!"

Nodding, Bumblebee pushed the dented door shut, but left it cracked. Ratchet didn't have time to gripe, so he turned back to Optimus, already thinking, already planning. But, in all his time as a medic, he had never quite seen anything like this. He could already see one large bug bulging against thin membranes of tubes and wires.

"_Ratchet! Primus, please, do it now!"_

"Don't give up, Prime. Whatever you do, _don't. Give. Up!"_

It was the only comforting thing he could say, and, almost mockingly, another burst through his stomach, along with a spurt of fresh energon. To the side, Bumblebee whined and snatched the bug up.

And then one more, poking its head out from under Optimus' chest plates. It lunged at Bumblebee, and Bumblebee shrieked so loud, the sound nearly shattering Ratchet's audio receptors. It latched onto the scouts face and Bumblebee, in an act of desperation, tore it off and threw it into a wall.

It stuck, splattering goo in every direction. Some splattered against Ratchet's cheek, and he wiped it away, disgusted.

Another. This time, erupting from his thigh and chewing right through the blue and red armor. Ratchet stepped back and almost slipped on the puddle of energon. Shuddering, trying to keep calm, he darted over to a nearby table covered in various tools and rummaged through them, trying to find _something_..._something_...

Nothing. Nothing could help, or even ease the pain.

Another scream, this one low and guttural, like it belonged to some kind of tortured animal. Optimus arched his back, the restraints shrieking, cutting through his wrist and drawing even more energon. It splattered against Ratchet, the eerie blue substance penetrating his olfactory sensors and making him gasp.

He was going to die. Optimus Prime was dying, a writhing mass of limbs and blood, eyes distant and unable to connect. Sparks flew as the bugs crawled out of him, his thighs, his stomach, his chest….

_"Frag_!"

Optimus' head lolled back and forth, banging against the berth. His optics were like marbles, blank, searching without seeing. He thrashed around like a fish out of water, pulling against metal cuffs so hard that they groaned and almost snapped.

"Bumblebee! Hold him down!"

The scout obeyed and reached over, grasping Optimus on each side of his helm and forcing him back down so hard that his head banged against the berth, the noise like a gunshot.

Another burst through and continued to chew. Ratchet grabbed it, threw it down, and stepped on it again and again so that it was just a pile of goo. Then he threw himself at Prime again, hands fumbling with wires and tubes. He was already covered in energon.

Ratchet suddenly knew what to do. He didn't like it. He scrambled back over just as another bug erupted, and Bumblebee had to let go of Optimus to reach out and grab it, throwing it on the ground and blasting it through the floor. He shot back up and grabbed Prime again, looking at Ratchet with horrified optics.

Optimus was already sliced open from neck to hip, revealing the brown protoform underneath that was crawling with bugs. With his hands and body coated in energon, Ratchet snatched them up and flung them to the side.

Bumblebee and Ratchet stared at Prime's protoform, a slaughterhouse mess, with horrific fascination. Optimus had fallen into something akin to shock, his mouth agape and his optics no longer that dazzling blue.

He was beyond speech, past even crying out.

Outside, in the hallway, the battle was getting louder and even more frenzied. The smell of gunpowder and blood and energon was everywhere. A sickening combination.

"Jolt!" Ratchet screamed, seeing the bloodied Autobot stumble into the medical bay. His blue armor was a terrifying collage of red and blue and green. "Jolt! Help us!"

The medic-in-training fell apart, right then and there. His limbs began to spasm and Ratchet saw the bug attached to his back, shoving its mandibles into his spark.

Dead.

The bug yanked its mandibles out of his back and flared large, veiny wings, a startled hiss escaping its mutated mouth. It's red eyes scanned the room, puss leaking from a gash in its side.

It threw itself across the room, towards Optimus, but Ratchet was quicker. He caught the bug by its legs and, with a mighty bellow, swung it around.

Oozing eyes dripping with blood met Ratchet's blue orbs, and, with one final snarl, the medic tore the bugs wings off its back.

He stepped on it again and again until it could move no more.

The doors to the med bay blew apart, shattering. Jolt's body fell, and the bugs poured inside, mouths open wide, mandibles clicking, and blood was in Ratchet's brain and in his eyes and his ears and all he could do was forget everything and grab the first thing he saw – a wrench – and have the satisfaction of hearing it crunch against the bugs skull.

* * *

><p>Zora stumbled, tripped, and fell back down, blinded by the agony. Her side was bleeding. Her arm was numb, her her side...it was gushing blood all over the concrete...<p>

She gritted her teeth, and, for the fifth time, forced herself to stand up. She had left Epps standing back, and had proceeded to walk back down the street, trying to make sense of the chaos around her. Less gunfire, but still, snarls and screams. And something else, sequences of tiny sonic booms and the shriek of metal sliding against metal.

Where was he? She needed to find him before he killed again. Before he went on to kill so many more.

She stumbled around a corner, out into the street, and stopped, momentarily forgetting the pounding in her head and the vicious throb in her side.

On the steps of one of the buildings, a titanic battle raged between Arcee and Drake.

Drake, cackling madly with glee, sent a torrent of rock flying at the Cybertronian.

Arcee dropped low, rolled across the ground with blinding speed, and swung her fist, catching Drake in the side of the head. Only a glancing blow, but still, a glancing blow from Arcee was like a sledgehammer.

Drake went flying, cartwheeled through the air, and landed in a heap on the sidewalk. He got up, shook himself off, frowning when he realized he had flown about twenty feet.

Zora blinked. Again. Lennox was at the top of the steps, gun resting beside him, either dead or unconscious, blood pooling around him. His leg was mashed and mangled, and Zora fought back tears, looking towards Drake.

"Drake!"

He turned, but didn't even flinch. His red eyes were cold and dead, like the devil was staring her right in the face. His clothes were filthy and torn and his hair was wild. He smiled, revealing mud specked teeth.

"Zora? Is that you?" His eyes lit up for a second out of joy and recognition, and Zora saw something. Something faint. It disappeared in a second, and was replaced by something much worse. Hatred and contempt.

Drake grinned, shook his head, holding up a finger, signaling for her to wait. With one hand, he blasted Arcee with that invisible force, sending her smacking into one of the stone pillars. She didn't move after that.

"Stop this."

"What?"

"I said, stop. This is enough."

Drake looked puzzled, as if he didn't know what the word "stop" meant. It was pure confusion, and Zora knew that if she had been any other person, he wouldn't have hesitated to kill her. But she could see that he stilled acknowledged her, still knew her. She had an advantage.

"Why should I stop?"

"Because the Drake I know would never do this," Zora paused and laughed, sending waves of pain down her side and up to her brain, like icicles stabbing and stabbing and stabbing. She shuddered but did not fall.

"The Drake you know is gone."

"I don't believe that," Zora shook her head. "I also don't believe that you would let all these people die. That you would let Sam or Mikaela or Ratchet and Bumblebee….they didn't do anything to you."

"Death is what they get for backing Prime," Drake snarled. "Should've gone with Megatron…shouldn't have followed Optimus."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sunstreaker go down, cursing as the tongues latched onto his armor and pulled him under. But he was still alive, blades flashing, glinting in the moonlight. He wasn't dead, no, but would be soon.

If Zora didn't work fast.

"Drake, please, I don't want to hurt you," Zora begged. She took a threatening step forward.

"Like you would kill your best friend. It would be another sin, Zora. Another thing to add to your ever growing list of transgressions."

Zora was silent, hands still clutching her ribs, the pain like a roar in her ears. Her vision was already fogging…she had to…had…

"You are a fool, Zora Parker," Drake hissed.

"Sometimes you have to be a fool to figure out what's right," with a grunt, Zora dragged one leg around. Her friend watched her with wary eyes, and she tried to search, tried to find some implication that he was still there.

She got none.

He was gone.

"Drake, please…." Zora sobbed. "If you really love me….you'd stop this…for me."

"This is all your fault."

Was it?

"No," Zora raised her hands, face set, steeling herself for what was to come.

If there was to be a fight, then there was to be a fight. Nothing she could do but resist now.

Drake was quicker. He sent a torrent of debris flying at her, but she fired her own light and the material burned and turned to ash.

Enraged, Drake turned to Lennox's hunched form and, with that monstrous, invisible force, pulled him down the steps along with a whoosh of rock and wood. Lennox hovered, like a rag doll, in front of Drake. A human shield. And Drake stood their full of his usual swagger.

"_Hiding_, Drake?" Zora had enough strength to sneer, her lips curling back over her teeth. "I thought you were better than that."

His eyes flickered, and Zora wondered if he had even registered the insult. Lennox wasn't even thrashing around. He was just hanging there, like a limp marionette.

"C'mon, Z. Shoot me. You gotta burn through him to get to me."

"Put him down."

"Make me."

"Be a man for once," Zora snarled, leaning back on one foot, head swimming. She already having trouble focusing, already beginning to slip away…

No. She had to finish this.

Drake huffed and shook the soldier, who wasn't responding. He was past responding, it seemed, his head lolling back and forth, eyes blank, like marbles. Zora saw one of his fingers twitch, the blood flowing from his leg in abnormal amounts.

"He's_ dying_ anyway," Drake said. "The rest of the army is almost done eating through the base. So I guess it's too late for your _boyfriend_…."

Zora's blood ran cold. Her eyes widened, and Drake got the satisfaction of watching her tremble in fear.

"_Join me_. Join me, and maybe my master will let you live."

Zora gulped and stepped back.

Movement from behind Drake caught her attention. Arcee, inching slowly and slowly down the stone steps. Crawling. The scraping of metal against stone was drowned out by the sound of gunfire and screaming.

She had to stall.

"Your master? What is he, like, some type of god to you now?" She said the words dryly.

"The Fallen is more than a god."

Zora shuddered. Her friend was mad. Mad, insane, twisted, sick, and evil.

Oh, Drake, she thought. You twisted, screwed up boy.

Lips trembling, Zora said, "I'd put Lennox down before something bad happens to you."

Arcee was hoisting herself up behind Drake now. Close. So close. All she had to do was….

She struck, punching him in the back. Her hand went through and came out through his chest.

"Too late," Zora whispered.

That one distraction was enough to cause him to drop Lennox and snarl, flinging his hand back so to blast Arcee again.

As the Cybertronian went flying once again, Zora raised her hand and sent the brilliant green light erupting from her palms. It shot over Lennox's head and burned through Drake's legs.

Drake's mouth opened in a silent scream. Zora, legs trembling, knees banging, swept the light up and down his legs, making her way towards his torso.

"Don't stop!" Arcee croaked from where she was lying in a heap, limbs twitching, at the bottom of the steps.

The smell was horrendous, flesh sizzling and popping, and Drake's scream of agony would be forever embedded in her mind. Finally, she went, up the neck, watching as his face burned and his scream abruptly cut off, the whole time some voice in the back of her mind screaming and screaming as if it would never stop.

She dropped her hands and the light ceased. A pile of ashes replaced Drake.

Hah. Watch him try to survive through that.

But now, there was another problem. The bugs. They swiveled their head towards Zora, towards the pile of ashes and towards Lennox, who was coughing hard, but getting to his feet, his clothing singed. The bugs surged towards them in a frenzy of gnashing mouthparts.

There was no explosion.

No flash of light.

The bugs simply dissolved. Paused, then fizzled out of existence like some type of hologram.

There. Then, gone.

She closed her eyes and opened them, rushing towards Lennox, who was trying to regain his balance. She didn't care that her legs were trembling so hard. She lifted helped the Major to his feet.

"It's over," she whispered.

"You killed him."

A groan of pain, and Zora looked up. Ironhide lay across the street, minus both legs and an arm. Alive, but barely. Arcee was trying to comfort him.

"I know."

She did the only thing plausible. She cried.

* * *

><p>Sam walked with shaking legs down the hallway.<p>

He held Mikaela up, although she was shaking so badly that he could barely walk himself.

Both of them were covered in gore, from head to toe. The hallway was a slaughterhouse. The bugs that had gotten in had simply massacred every human and, in this case, bot, inside.

Sam told himself not to look at Jolt's body again. But the horror was already clearly embedded into his mind.

He had lost his gun after a bug had knocked it out of his hand. He remembered it clearly. He had been slammed into a corner, with a body on top of him, praying and begging to be spared. He had thrown punches at the monster, but they had been nothing to the thing.

And then, in that one instant, they had dissolved.

Its bloody teeth had been scraping across the walls, trying to take of Sam's head. Inches and millisecond from a gruesome death. He had cried. Tears and everything.

Then, they were gone.

Sam had heard nothing, nothing but the sound of his own racketing sobs.

And the screams of the other survivors.

A pained cry coming from inside the med bay that sounded like Bumblebee. Ratchet shouting, his voice cracking.

And then, and insistent, mad howl of despair.

Sam had to pull a screaming Mikaela from beneath a body. She wouldn't stop screaming and kicking and sobbing, and as he watched her and held her, a sudden rage boiled up inside him. A rage at everyone and everything that made the world full of pain and fear and loss.

He wanted to scream, too. Bellow like a wild animal and smash anything in sight.

He guided Mikaela into the med bay and saw Optimus, laying on the medical berth, optics blank, split open from neck to hip, the cut doing past his armor, past his protoform and right into the very depths of his being. And Ratchet, racing around, tools flying, trying to conjure up some sort of treatment. And Bumblebee, sitting in a corner, hugging his knees and sobbing like a big, yellow baby.

Sam wanted to cry. To sob, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

But he was unable to find the words.


	46. Exult

**Its the enddd! Can you believe it? Anyway, thank you all for sticking with me to the end! You guys your reviews are what really keep me going! So, enjoy the last chapter and look for the sequel!**

**I don't own it.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Six days Later.<strong>

Zora really didn't want to go up in front of all those soldiers and government officials. Really, really didn't. But Ratchet had insisted she address the troops and speak for Optimus. Especially since he wasn't doing so well.

Dead? No. Alive? Barely. He was currently resting in the med bay, in some sort of coma, being repaired by Ratchet. The medic was antsy and tired after long, strenuous hours of fixing him. They had moved to another base, a fairly new one in Virginia, near Washington, D.C. Ratchet barely had any of his tools left, since most of the med bay had been destroyed in the fight, along with most of the building.

Zora gulped and looked down at her feet as she listened to the thundering sound of rain on the hangar roof. She hadn't been there to see him cut open. She was sure that she would have lost the last piece of her mind if she had.

In a way, she already had.

Drake was dead. Her best friend was dead. A pile of ashes on the ground, courtesy of her and her killing light.

She looked back up, staring around the hangar. They were waiting for Ratchet, and then, the meeting could start. The medic was regarded as a hero now, and he had earned the respect of _everyone_, government bureaucrat or not. He deserved it, Zora thought.

Bumblebee was with Sam and Mikaela, actually looking happy, fluttering his door wings and bouncing up and down. Zora smiled. At least he was trying to find a way to hang onto that last shred of hope.

Lennox was with Sideswipe, sitting in the palm of the silver bot's hand, looking like he had been to hell and back. Deathly pale, trembling, holding onto Sideswipes' finger, but still looking a little bit determined. Epps stood on the ground beside him, hunched over, visibly exhausted.

Arcee was practically vibrating. Zora could see her across the hangar, shooting Zora glances. Squeaking her wheels against the floor anxiously. She was even slightly gnawing on the tips of her metal fingers.

Hm, Zora thought. Optimus isn't the only one picking up on human habits.

Zora shuddered. Best not to think about Optimus right now._ He_ was what she wanted most, but she couldn't have him. Yet. Well, if he survived. Zora didn't doubt that he would.

A tap on the back of her leg snapped her out of her thoughts. She spun, teeth bared, ready to snarl at whoever it was.

"_Jeez_, kid. Calm down. Fury is _not_ a good look on you."

Simmons.

For a second, Zora had to blink to make sure he was real. But there he was, standing there, holding a cane in one hand. Healed, but not all the way. Standing in front of her with that self-righteous look he always had.

But he, too, was broken. Just like everyone else, he had that hallow look in his eyes. Barely noticeable.

"S-Simmons?" Zora stuttered. "You're alright!"

He straightened up and beamed.

"It takes a _lot_ more than a freakin'_ bullet_ to get rid ole' Seymour," he smirked. "And you? You aren't looking to good yourself, kiddo."

Zora narrowed her eyes.

"You should. With the day you had?" Simmons barked out a laugh. "I'm not surprised everyone's losing their minds."

Zora's gaze softened, and she ran a hand through her red hair. At least he understood. She looked back up to him and gave a long, heavy sigh. It felt good.

"You heard about everything?"

"I heard about how the bugs turned Miami into a all-you-can eat buffet," he blinked, and his mouth turned down. It wasn't a normal thing, and Zora wondered how much the gun wound had damaged him. She didn't dare ask as he said, "and how you took on NBE-1 all by yourself, like a big girl."

"Who?"

"Nobody," Simmons shuffled uncomfortably. "Just thinkin' of my old Sector Seven days."

Zora stared blankly. She could have sworn she had heard that name somewhere….maybe from Drake and his crazy conspiracy magazines?

"_So_," Simmons continued casually, leaning on his cane for support. It seemed as if standing tired him out. "You'll have to show me sometime."

"Show you what?"

"How you do that thing…you know…with the light."

"You know about that?"

"Saw it myself, when I was lying on the ground, bleeding to death. Saw you drag me across the carpet, shooting light out of your hands like some comic book superhero. I don't remember anything after that," Simmons replied, shrugging. Then, his eyelids drooped as he thought for a moment. He laughed. It was a hallow, emotionless laugh.

For some reason, it made Zora want to weep.

The sound of rain got louder. A flash of light, then, a boom. A thin silence hung in the air.

"I guess you did see me," Zora mumbled because it was the only thing she could think of saying.

Simmons looked down at his feet, twirling the cane on one hand before sliding it back into the other. He looked as if he really, really wanted to say something, but couldn't find the courage.

"Is there something you want to say?"

He mumbled something under his breath.

"What?"

"I said thanks, kid," he looked up and gave her a little smile. "You saved my life back there. Back at the house. You and Lennox and Epps."

Zora didn't know what to say. She wasn't used to being admired as some type of hero. Since growing up in Synapsis, one of the poorest and corrupt town in Florida, she had been viewed as more of a delinquent. And to some, a slut. Especially since the mugging incident with Drake.

"Um…you're welcome?"

Simmons reached out and patted her shoulder. "You have my respect," he looked past her. "It looks like you're up."

Zora turned and saw Ratchet finally tromping into the hangar, each step causing the floor to shake.

Zora looked at him closely. He was no longer the grumpy, fearless and intimidating medic she had known before. Like everyone else, he was weak in mind, and even weaker in spirit.

She approached the medic cautiously. She looked up and said, "are we ready?"

He glanced down at nodded. Didn't speak, just nodded and stepped over her so he stood behind her.

The room suddenly went quiet. All eyes swiveled to look at Zora. Each look was different. Some filled with despair, other curious, some shaken, some angry. Some full of respect as they stared at her. Other were accusing, but Zora couldn't tell if they were directed at her, or the CMO standing behind her.

"I think we all know why we're here…" Zora began, her face already beginning to heat. Optimus usually did the speaking, not her. He was usually the center of attention, not her. She gulped and found herself toying with the hemline of her shirt.

"I know that the last few days have been a little…..hectic. For all of you." She shot Sam and Mikaela a look. In the back, Arcee stared at her worriedly. "Listen, I'm not really good with the whole public speaking thing."

A few coughs. Blank, tired faces stared at her.

"Drake is dead," she clarified. "but we still have a war to win. A war that's a whole lot bigger than any of us. And _I'm_ sticking with it. But I don't know about you."

She paused for a moment and took a breath.

"You can choose to stick with it now, or turn away. If you choose to stay, there's not turning back. No one will stop you. I doubt anyone will blame you, after what you've all seen," she gave a dry laugh.

"What about da bugs?" It was Mudflap, the red bot having stood up. "I ain't playin' with those things again. No fraggin' way."

Zora sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to have to mention those monstrosities. It would lead to a discussion about Drake, and he was the last thing she wanted to talk about. She still had his mad, dying face stuck in her mind.

Ratchet stepped up and saved her, surprisingly.

"I've examined them. They were a mix of Cybertronian and organic material unlike anything I've ever seen before."

"….And they aren't coming back from the dead, right?" Zora asked. The thought had just dawned on her, then, and she needed clarification. For the sake of her, and all the other soldiers.

"Drake was their master. Drake is dead, therefore they ceased to exist."

Almost everyone in the room breathed out a sigh of relief.

Zora sucked in air and continued. "So, there you have it," she couldn't help but stare at the floor when she murmured, "we lost a lot of good guys out there…"

Jolt. Maggie. Galloway. Hank. Quinn. Sledge. Dex. Barricade.

Almost Optimus.

Drake.

All casualties. Some good, most bad. But it still clawed at her heart to think about any of them, even if she hadn't known a minority of them personally.

She held back a sudden, uncontrollable sob, and turned away, walking towards the med bay.

Down the hall, around a corner, listening to the sound of rain splashing against the ceiling. She reached the med bay, surprised to the that the room was dark except for a few dim lights hanging from the ceiling. In the corner, tools sat on the huge table that Ratchet used. Laying on the berth was a huge, blue and red hulking figure.

She looked around and didn't see Ironhide. He was probably in his own quarters. It seemed fixing legs and arms took less work than fixing someone who had been split open.

"You up?" She asked.

The figure shifted, joints creaking. Two large, glowing blue orbs blinked to life.

"Z-Zora?"

She cringed at the static lacing his voice.

"Yeah. It's me. How you doing, big guy?"

"Stable," Optimus grunted. It seemed like talking hurt. "Still broken inside."

Zora twisted her fingers together and looked at him. "I heard Ratchet say that you would be able to walk by tomorrow."

Optimus made a noise and pinched the bridge of his nose. Out of disgust or relief, Zora did not know. Maybe a mix of both.

In the flickering light, Zora saw his chassis rise and fall.

"I can't manage this anymore, Zora."

Zora froze. His tone was serious.

"Yes, you can," she said. "You're a leader."

"Someone once told me…." Optimus sighed, "that the world would no longer need a hero. And that a true hero would know when to walk away."

Zora huffed and crossed her arms. "The world still needs you. _They _still need us," she shook her head. "Look, you know about multiple choice questions?"

He shifted his head, and Zora interpreted that as a nod.

"Well, sometimes they have A, B, C, or, 'all of the above,'" Zora said. "Well, sometimes you have to choose 'all of the above.' The world needs all of the above. They need you, and Sam, and Mikaela, and Lennox, and Epps, and Ratchet, and Ironhide, and Bumblebee, and everyone else. Remember that."

"You are wise beyond your years, Zora Grace Parker," Optimus said, smiling.

"You know you love it," she teased. "And you know that I love you."

The large bot' shifted, and suddenly, Zora felt those pair of human arms around her. That black hair tickled her cheek as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"As you know, I also enjoy nice, long drives with my _mate_."

Zora turned to face his, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close.

"I know."

She kissed him. Hard. Gripping his shirt and pulling her forward, loving the feel of his hands tangled in her hair.

She loved him, she loved _him_. She could care less what anyone else said.

She had pulled away to let him nuzzle her throat when it hit her.

"You know, I'm really glad that I went to that party."

She pulled away as he deactivated his holoform. She let his large fingers wrap around her waist to lift her up so she sat on his chest. As she traced the smooth designs on his armor, she noticed that he was almost fully repaired.

She smiled and let her head rest against the metal of his chest, and they both listened to the dull sounds of rain against the roof.

Like tears. To some, tears of sadness, but to her, tears of absolute _joy_.

She cried and the world cried with her.

* * *

><p><strong>~ End ~<strong>


End file.
